Sarmatian Ladies
by J. Maria
Summary: Dawn was sent back in time to conceive a child from the past, where she learned her true purpose. Armed with this truth, she leads the greatest warriors known throughout the world to see the prophecy fulfilled. Sequel to Protector of the Weak.
1. 1: Misdirection

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: Pg-13 - R

Disclaimers: Joss owns Buffy & Co., Fuqua & Bruckheimer own Arthur & Co. I own the baby.

Spoilers: Buffy: s7, the movie King Arthur, and my story Protector of the Weak

Summary: Six weeks ago, a girl was sent back in time to conceive a child from the past. Through hardships, loss, and time, she learned her true purpose. Armed with this truth, she leads the greatest warriors known throughout the world to see the prophecy fulfilled.

A/N: Yeah, yeah yeah. I'm back. You're probably saying, why didn't I just continue on in PotW. . . because that focused solely on Dawn and Dagonet. This one, focuses on everyone.

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1. Misdirection

When the key is made flesh, it shall carry one that unites the people.  
Born of the Dark Knight's blood, formed in the host of the Key.  
The child will unite all in the battle against the immortal.

-Prophecy of the King

Her nights were haunted with half-known memories of a time when she lived for the battle, when life and death happened hand in hand. She tossed in her sleep, as the memories bombarded her subconscious. She awoke each night, her mind plagued with thoughts of him. Her king, her lover, her leader. Gwen Hamlin bolted upright in her bed. She dreamed of his death nightly, and all the pain it had brought her.

Running a hand through her shoulder-length brown hair, she looked at the bedside clock. Tomorrow was the big day. They would track down more of the knights, and she needed to be fresh. Dawn needed her to be fresh. Sighing heavily, she turned back to her bed.

Dawn Summers wiped the drool from the corners of her mouth at the ungodly cheerful voice calling her. Had she been that annoying when she was younger? Susan, one of the young slayers living on her floor, was calling from her closed door.

"Miss Dawn? Miss Dawn, you have guests! It's the cute boys and Miss Hamlin!" The eleven year old slayer said giggling through the door.

"I'm coming." Dawn said, groaning.

Dawn stumbled over discarded clothes and thrown pillows and twisted the lock on the door open. There, on the other side of the door stood Gwen Hamlin, Gavin Mitchell, Garrett Jones and little Susan Blake all looking nice and shiny.

"You look awful." Garrett said drolly.

"Bite me 'the Chaste'" Dawn snapped, turning to the little girl. "Thanks Susie, you can go hang out with the other girls now."

"No problem, Miss Dawn!" The girl said cheerfully, bouncing away giggling.

"Rough night, then?" Gwen asked sympathetically.

"Puke-o-rama for three hours." Dawn groaned, inviting them into her room.

It wasn't huge, but it had it's own little kitchen area and a private bathroom. Dawn plopped gently back onto her bed, feeling another wave of nausea wash over her. Garrett was the last to enter the not-so-tidy room, closing the door behind him. Gwen went over to the sink and let the tap run while she reached for a clean glass.

"I thought you'd finished with the morning sickness?" Gavin said, rubbing her back.

"So did I, but then Gina asked if she could use my microwave to make soup."

"And?"

"The smell of it made me hurl." Dawn groaned.

"Here, drink this. Can't have you getting too dehydrated." Gwen said, handing her the glass of water.

"Thanks."

"I guess you didn't get around to packing then." Garrett said from the doorway.

"Ha ha." Dawn said.

"Well, we came to help." Gwen said cheerfully. "If you want to rest a bit longer, we can start packing up the unessential things before we go."

"Go?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah. To the West Ham United match? To find Bors, you know, one of the knights you're obligated to find." Garrett deadpanned.

"Shit, that's today? Wait, why are you packing for me?"

"Because you've just had a three hour-long stare at the toilet bowl." Gavin replied.

"Funny." Dawn said snippily.

"Willow said the deed was signed over yesterday and that we could start moving in. We've already packed up Garrett's dorm, and Gavin's things have been boxed for a few weeks from when we moved him into the Council's flat." Gwen said. "And half my things have still been boxed from when I moved down here from my parents home."

"We can go without you, if you're not feeling up to it." Garrett said, concern showing on his face.

"Please. You guys don't seem to 'tip' each other off to the fact that you all used to know each other. I seem to be the key." Dawn said tiredly.

"Literally." Gwen said smiling.

"And when do you turn into Mr. Are-You-OK? I thought you were still pissed about me ruining your life?" Dawn turned to Garrett.

"I've known you now for almost a month. I can't be eternally pissed at you, now can I?"

"You could always try. Wouldn't be that big of a stretch." Gavin said laughingly.

"Funny." Garrett deadpanned. "Seriously though, Dawn. You shouldn't push yourself to do anything that's not necessary."

"This is necessary. We've got, what four more knights to wrangle in? Plus we don't even know if we have to get the full round table."

"Full round table?" Gwen asked.

"Gavin said he remembered there being twenty-six chairs at the round table, which means there were twenty-five knights and Arthur." Dawn said, pausing to take another sip of water. "So, if we find Bors, Tristan, and Lancelot that leaves nineteen more knights to find."

"Nineteen? Don't you mean twenty?" Garrett asked.

"Nineteen." Dawn said quietly. "Dagonet - he chose not to return."

"You could chose?" Garrett asked. "Why didn't I get to chose? Who said I wanted to come back?"

"You, you dingus." Dawn said rolling her eyes. "You got to chose and you wanted to live again. He didn't."

"Dawn - " Gwen started to say, hoping to shut Garrett off before he put his foot in his mouth.

"How do you know this?" Garrett asked, not catching the looks Gavin was throwing his way.

"The Powers. Cordelia, she told me that he was given the choice and he didn't want to come back." Dawn said quietly. It hurt, thinking that her love wasn't worth coming back for. She knew he was offered something better, but had the roles been reversed, she would have wanted to be with him. "So that's why we need to know if I have to gather all twenty-four of you."

"Do you even know their names?" Gwen asked, changing the subject.

"Well, if you've boned up on the legend -" Dawn was interrupted by two snorts of laughter. Turning to Garrett and Gavin, she narrowed her eyes. "Are you two twelve?"

"No, but - well, Gwen _has_ boned the legend." Gavin smirked.

"Haha, very funny." Gwen rolled her eyes. "I sure as hell wouldn't be boning up on you two prats, now would I?"

"If we can get off the whole boning tangent, please?" Dawn sighed. "Like I was saying, if you go by the legend there's like fifteen knights. Kay, Ector, Bedivere, Gawain, Agravain, Gaheris, Gareth, Sagramor, Lancelot, Perceval, Tristan, Bohort, Lionel, Lamorat, Galahad, and Modred."

"Modred? Isn't that Arthur's bastard son conceived by Morgan Le Fay?" Garrett asked.

"Yeah. But he was a knight in the legends. He actually exposed Guinevere and Lancelot's love affair." Dawn shrugged. "The Arthur of legends probably felt guilty and made him a knight because of that."

"I thought you said Dagonet had been a knight in the legends?" Gavin asked.

"No, I said in the legends he was part of the court. They might have called him Sir, but he wasn't a knight." Dawn said bitterly.

"What was he then?"

"Dagonet was the big-hearted court jester. He was known for his 'tom-foolery'." Dawn spat. "He was painted as a clown."

"Dawnie, please don't get so upset." Gwen was at her side in an instant. "Not over this. Think about it, they painted cast of us in disfiguring lights. They said that man-whore over there was Sir the Chaste. And Gavin, well he got bamboozled by a silly green-clothed bint. And me? They call be the biggest tramp of all time."

"Is it bad that her calling me a man-whore kind of turns me on?" Garrett mock whispered. Dawn laughed at him.

"You'd get turned on by dry toast!" Dawn giggled.

It was amazing how at ease she was around them. They'd already formed this protective group and they'd only been together for two months. They teased each other as if they'd grown up together. It reminded her of the old Scooby gang in a way.

"You can't let it get you upset. It could be bad for the baby." Gwen said, a small smile on her lips.

"That's right, ducks. We want that little girl nice and strong." Gavin winked at her.

"Have you picked a name yet? We've got to start calling her something." Garrett said, grinning. "If we're to play protective uncles, we need to know her name."

"Nerys Joyce. After my mom." Dawn said, smiling softly.

"What's it mean?" Gwen asked. "I saw you going down page after page on that baby name site."

"Nerys means 'a lady' in Welsh, and Joyce means 'a lord' in Middle English. Joyce was my mom's name." Dawn paused, before continuing.

"Why Nerys?" Gavin asked.

"It's what he used to call me before I made him call me Dawn." She said quietly.

The three exchanged a glance. She didn't like talking about him yet, and even though they tried to lift her spirits they just seemed to bring the conversation back to him. Garrett cleared his throat, playing 'conversation saver'.

"Lady Lord." Garrett grinned. "Cute name, not as catchy as _Ladyhawke_, but still."

"Your name means 'a spear warrior', 'the Chaste', so you have no room to talk." Dawn smiled back at him.

"Bloody hell, you're never going to let me live that down are you?"

"Nope."

"Wait, Galahad means a spear warrior? Or Garrett?" Gwen asked, slightly confused.

"Garrett." Dawn grinned slyly over at Gavin. "But you're the one who should be worried."

"Why, what did I do?" Gavin jumped.

"I'd watch out for Tristan when we meet up with him if I were you." Dawn said, her face very serious and serene.

"Why?"

"Cuz your name means 'little hawk'." Dawn said seriously, trying hard to keep her face completely neutral. "He might try to pet you and make you sit on his hand."

Gavin sputtered loudly, his eyes going wide. Gwen started giggling so much she fell back on the bed. Garrett laughed so hard his eyes were watering. Dawn grinned at him. Gavin merely grinned right back at her. And then the tickling commenced.

Buffy Summers was scared. It didn't happen often and she really didn't like the feeling. Especially since her fear was over her sister's safety. Again. She'd spent the better part of her life worrying about little Dawnie. Her major concern was over her sister's pregnancy. Giles had tried to reassure her that Dawnie hadn't been impregnated by demon spawn, but Buffy just wasn't sure.

It was her baby sister! Was she supposed to take this lightly? Was this supposed to be an easy thing for her to accept? Dawn wasn't the same little baby she could look out for. Which was why she was in Rome, hanging out with Mort when she really wanted to be there with Dawn.

"Mi bella, what is troubling you?" The voice whispered in her ear, handing her the fragrant rose.

"Mort." Buffy smiled in spite of her mood. He really was the most charming man she'd ever met. . .even if he wasn't completely human. "I'm missing Dawnie, I guess."

"Come, my beauty. I would not see you so sad." The dark haired man crooned. "Let us dance long into the night." He said suggestively.

Buffy sighed. Dawn had been right. After a while, the Italian charm started to fade and he seemed kinda sleazy. So much for the Immortal being the one to enjoy cookie Buffy. She smiled and nodded, dancing was better than sitting here worrying about her sister.

Dawn munched quietly on the saltine. She hated plain crackers, but at least it calmed her stomach. The train lurched beneath her and she clenched her teeth. Stupid, stupid train.

"How you holding up, ducks?" Gavin asked, slinging an arm around her protectively.

"Well, the urge to puke has passed, so I guess everything's good."

"Dawn, have you made an appointment with the local doctor up there yet?" Gwen asked, her head propped on her hands.

"Yeah. I'm supposed to meet Doctor Kingston when two weeks from today." Dawn sighed. "He's a general practitioner, but everyone swore up and down he was the best."

"That's good." Gwen replied. "Sounds like a nice gentlemanly old country doctor."

"That's what I thought."

"Oi, next stop is the field." Garrett called, leaning over his seat. "You ready to awaken a thirty year old assistant coach, Dawn?"

"Bring on the Bors." Dawn sighed, munching on the cracker.

Europa felt her smirk of pleasure droop a little. The wretch was about to get herself another knight. This was not good. She was only supposed to find Lancelot. He was the proverbial key to all of Europa's plans. All in good time. The child would be hers and then she could dispose of the key. She hoped her accomplice was having more fortuitous luck than she.

A/N2: I'm back! Or at least partially back. Oh, btw, Ray Winstone, (who plays Bors) according to supports the West Ham United Football Club. I didn't even know that when I said he lived there. I scare myself sometimes. Also, if you're wondering what Europa and the Immortal look like, I'm basing their appearances off of Saffron Burrows (Andromache, Hector's wife in _Troy_) and Benno Fürmann (William Eden in _The Order_)  
Europa's origins: She's in the Greek myths. Zeus basically had the hots for her, pretended to be a pure white bull to seduce her away from her handmaidens or friends, and when she got the courage to hop on his back, he swam across the sea with her. They slept together, and she later became the mother to King Minos. I went through this phase in the sixth grade where Greek and Roman Mythology were pretty much my life. Yeah. That's been replaced by my King Arthur fix I'm going through right now.


	2. 2: Eyes on the Prize

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: Pg-13 - R

Disclaimers: Joss owns Buffy & Co., Fuqua & Bruckheimer own Arthur & Co. I own the baby.

Spoilers: Buffy: s7, the movie King Arthur, and my story Protector of the Weak

Summary: Football matches, hissy fits, unusual fares, and a little mambo Italiano.

A/N: Ok, the sport of choice in my house growing up was soccer. My sisters played, I played, it's the one ball we actually have in my house, my sister was an assistant coach and I helped out, and my family still watches my older sister's championship game on tape. A lot. So I know soccer pretty well. I'm also part Italian, so any Italian traits of certain characters I've picked up from family members or friends who are also Italian.  
Garrett/Galahad's remark about being called a man-whore? I actually heard some guy say that. Dontcha just love college guys?

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2. Eyes on the Prize

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"I have been growing for these eighteen years,

And waiting here, for one thing and another."

- Isolt, **Tristam**.

Dawn pushed the sunglasses up on her nose. It was brighter than she'd thought. Maybe being pregnant made things look brighter? She wasn't sure if it was that or the glare off the metal bleachers. Gwen and Gavin were enthralled by the game, and Garrett was enthralled by the two girls seating below them. Dawn was too busy trying to see Bors. It was weird to see him with blond hair. That was the biggest shock she'd had since seeing Gavin at the bar the first time.

"You call that defense?" Gwen yelled as the other team scored.

"That's all right! We're still up by three!" Gavin yelled at the same time. "They're the better team." He said quietly.

"Nah. West Ham'll win it. Better goalkeeper." Gwen replied, her eyes still on the action.

"The forwards are stronger."

"They've got better defense."

"We're up by three points!"

"There's still another half to be played."

"Ok, for those of us not really into your argument, can you just be quiet?" Dawn interjected.

"You can't be quiet and watch a football match." They said at the same time.

"Ok. . sorry I asked." Dawn held up her hands.

She was kinda bored. Soccer . . .er, football was cool and all that, but she really wasn't all that interested. She wanted to find Bors, see if he even believed them, and finish packing. So she went back to staring at her 'drinking buddy'. She wondered what would 'tip' him off. She could mention liquor, Vanora, or eleven bastard children. Something told her that would be a bad idea. Then he turned around, peering up into the crowd. In her direction.

Boris Haggarty felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He glanced over his shoulder at the cheering crowd. His eyes narrowed. Up near the top of the bleachers, the cheap seats as Joe liked to call them, there was a girl watching him. She straightened up quickly when she saw him stare back at her. Her face looked familiar, but he couldn't be sure. She was wearing these huge sunglasses that seemed to swallow her face. She looked pale. The bloke sitting next to her turned to her then, his hand going to her arm. He turned to stare at Boris, jerking the arm of the girl next to him.

Boris turned away. He didn't care what was bothering that lot. He had players to yell at. The defense was getting sloppy, and McHenry was getting full of himself. Even though Boris told himself to concentrate on the game, he felt his mind wandering back to that girl up in the bleachers.

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London

Willow stared at the computer screen. She'd promised Dawn she'd work her hacking skills and try to get a lead on where Lancelot and Arthur might be, but so far she hadn't come up with anything. The other six had been in London or near London, but that didn't mean that they would be there. She sighed. This was useless. Something wasn't matching up. Either they were different looking in this time or they didn't live in London. She was leaning towards the not-living-in-London theory.

"Hey Red, G-man said you wanted to see me?" Faith called, poking her head in Willow's office. She watched with a grin as the witch jumped.

"Faith!"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." Faith chuckled. "What's up?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

"What?" Faith asked guardedly.

"Dawn needs to find this guy, for that whole mission the Powers set her on?" Willow said, printing the information out.

"The one that sent B running back to Rome?"

"Buffy didn't run, she -"

"She ran, Willow. She doesn't like Dawn's choice, so she left." Faith said, rolling her eyes. She knew Buffy better than anyone else.

Being a slayer had always been a job Buffy had to do, and when there was a chance for her to escape that life, she'd jumped at it. Faith didn't blame her, she'd have done the same thing had she been in her shoes. But she wasn't. Faith knew that was why it was hard on Buffy, having Dawn get dragged back in by the powers.

"That's not fair." Willow sighed.

"Life ain't fair, Red." Faith plopped herself down in the chair across from her. "So, who am I lookin' for?"

"Trevor Bishop, or Sir Tristan."

"One of Dawnie's knights? I thought she was supposed to get them?"  
"She is. But this guy - I saw him fight, Faith. He's a warrior." Willow grimaced, noticing the look on Faith's face. "I -"

"You're worried he might overreact and hurt Dawnie." Faith nodded. "I get that, why send the Key when you can send a slayer."

"It's just that Dawn's pregnant, and I really wouldn't want anything to happen to the baby. Not that -"

"Red, I got ya." Faith sighed. "Wait, why not send one of the already-found knights?"

"Well, they really are only just remembering their pasts. Dawn says they can't even spar yet. Gavin's only been here for about a month . . .what are you smiling about?" Willow asked.

"Gavin. The blond, right?" Faith grinned. "Good choice, Red."

"What are you talking about? Hello, gay now." Willow said blushing, looking back at the printer tray.

"Get off it, Red. Everyone knows he's got a thing for you. Might as well take him for a test drive."

"He doesn't have a thing. There's no thing!" Willow said, snatching the papers as they slipped from the printer. "And besides, I'm gay."

"Willow, you and Kennedy Little-Miss-Slay-A-Lot broke up about three months ago. You're free to sleep with anybody you wanna. He's single and he's got a thing for you."

"He - there's been some innocent flirting. Nothing else." Willow admitted. "That's it."

"There's no such thing as innocent flirting unless you're twelve years old. He wants to knock boots." Faith grinned. "You better take him up on the offer."

"Faith, I'm not into guys." Willow sighed.

"No, you're not into macho people."

"Huh?"

Willow turned to stare at the brunette. What was she talking about? Okay, so the whole flirting-with-Gavin hadn't been totally innocent, he was a good looking guy, and she was single, but she was also gay. Nothing was gonna happen.

"Xander was the first person you liked, right?"

"I was a kid! I didn't -"

"That's not the point. You wanted Xander. Then you met Oz. No offense to either of em, but they're not the world's most masculine manly men. Oz was soft-spoken, sweet, and gentle to a fault. Except when he went all Wolfman. From what D told me about Tara, she was the polar opposite of Kennedy." Faith grinned wider. "Now, Gavin. He's all baby-faced and sweet. But he's got a macho streak if you scratch the surface. Probably all that knightly past life."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You want him because he's everything you've ever fallen for. You liked guys before, Red."

"I liked them as people -" Willow cut herself off, and Faith just grinned at her.

"So, who's this mystery man and how do I find him?"

"Trevor Bishop. Here's his cab's normal route. I'll call ahead and arrange him to pick you up at the Oyster Shell Pub."

"How do you know he'll be the cabbie to pick me up?"  
"I have my ways. Plus your 'destination' is one of the buildings the Council owns down there, and it's one of his regular routes. His shift ends around five, so you can convince him to stay there with you once you explain you're on a mission of great importance."  
"Shit, I get to be all 007?" Faith grinned. "What's he look like?"

"Here's a copy of his driver's license." Willow handed her the packet of information. "We'll have Dawn and the others meet you there when they get back from Hampshire."

"Damn. He's kinda hot." Faith muttered.

"How's Robin?" Willow asked, quietly.

"You might want to ask his girlfriend." Faith said, pushing herself up out of the chair.

"You -"

"Broke up. His surprises were getting kinda annoying." Faith said quietly. "Not all that into a girl who's into 'the mission'."

"Oh. I'm -"

"Nah, I'm cool with it. Opens the playing field back up. I'll call you once I get him secure."

"Faith -"

"I'll call, Red."

"Be careful."  
"This'll be a piece of cake."

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West Hampshire

Dawn yelled along with everyone else, happy that West Ham had indeed won the match. Her reason was slightly different than everyone else's, but what the hell? She tapped Garrett on the shoulder, only to have him continue to flirt with the girls below them.

"Sweetie, we've got to get to that obstetrician appointment." Dawn said as sweetly as she could. "Garrett Junior here needs to get his little picture taken."

The girls went wide eyed and Dawn nearly bust out laughing. They gave him disgusted looks and her a sympathetic and embarrassed look. Garrett was red in the face. Literally.

"That was uncalled for."

"Yeah, well we have a knight to recruit, so sorry I had to wreck your love life, hon." Dawn rolled her eyes. Honestly, he could be really annoying at times. "C'mon. He's alone."

"Dawn!" Gwen tried to caution her, but she went running down the bleacher steps.

There was a divider that separated the field and the bleachers. Luckily, Bors - Boris, whatever his name was - was standing near them. That solved one problem. She reached the divider fence first.

"Mr. Haggarty?" She yelled.

Boris looked up to find the girl from before calling his name. He should have known. She was one of those crazy fangirls, probably wanting him to introduce her to the players.

"Sorry, love, I can't help you get any of the players numbers."

"Mr. Haggarty, I need to speak with you." She called, leaning over the rail. "It's very important."

"Look, girl, I ain't got the time to be -" He said crossly, getting annoyed by this conversation already.

"It's about Dagonet!" The girl snapped, taking her sunglasses off.

Boris felt a chill seep into his skin. He'd never spoken that name out loud to anyone. How could this girl know it? Dagonet had been an imaginary friend of his as a child. They'd been knights together, like brothers, always riding off on great adventures.

"Who told you that name?" Boris demanded through gritted teeth.

"You remember it?" She whispered. "Oh, thank god! My name is Dawn Summers -"

"I didn't ask your name. I asked where you heard that name?" He said grabbing her arm roughly.

Dawn let out a shocked cry, and Gavin was there in a flash prying Boris' hand off of her arm. He stepped between them, glowering down at the older man he half-remembered.

"Don't touch her." Gavin said in a low and threatening voice.

"Gav, it's okay." Dawn said, trying to move him out of the way. "I know that name because the man I loved had the same name. He was big, tall, strong."

"That's not a real name." Boris spat.

"Yes it is! It was the name of the court jester of King Arthur's court." Dawn said, praying he would remember.

"Dag wasn't a fool!" Boris spat.

"No, but history painted him that way. He had a close friend, name Bors. Bors was a strong warrior, father to eleven children. Lover of Vanora." Dawn continued, pushing around Gavin to crouching lower, so Boris could hear her.

His face went pale. How could she know these things? He had never told anyone about Dagonet, or that whenever he saw Dagonet, there was a young red-haired girl with him. She always trailed behind them in his memories. Vannie had been her name.

"How do you know this?"

"I - I know because I was there."

"You've gone round the bend!" Boris chuckled. "How in the bloody hell could you have been there? Past life you're remembering I suppose?"

"No. I was there less than two months ago. You're remembering _your_ past life." Dawn stretched out a hand and touched him gently on the shoulder. Boris jerked slightly at her touch, but he found himself looking in her eyes. Tears glistened there as she spoke again. "We mourned together. My drinking buddy. I told you I loved him and you said you knew."

"Bloody -" Boris said quietly, as the images pulled themselves to the front of his mind.

A/N: I'm gonna be gone next week due to spring break. Just a heads up to let you all know.


	3. 3: Private Show

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: Pg-13 - R

Disclaimers: Joss owns Buffy & Co., Fuqua & Bruckheimer own Arthur & Co. I own the baby.

Spoilers: Buffy: s7, the movie King Arthur, and my story Protector of the Weak

Summary: Taxi-cab confessions, rude awakenings, mixed feelings, and moving

A/N: Ok, thanks for all the reviews - I'm really sorry I had to cut that chapter short. Well, my break was short and uneventful (unless breaking a toilet, drooling in a used bookstore at all the shiny happy books I couldn't have, and family get-togethers that involve the quoting of most of _Sixteen Candles _ sounds like a fun time) Ok, there were definite high points. Anywho, I'm still not sure if Dawn will have to get all 25 knights or just the seven from the movie. As a side note, I watched the theater version of the movie and read the novel over break. Wow - I so hated Dag's death in the book. It is very - guh. I actually threw the book across the room I was in after reading it (I of course scrambled back over to it so I wouldn't lose the page.) Also, the Tristan/Illyria fic is up in Winter Tidings. It's called Like Dancing, and yes I'm planning on putting all of my one-shot KA crossovers into a story together, of course as I'm planning on continuing two of them. . . SL comes first though.

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3. Private Show

_Rome_

The Immortal watched as his woman swayed to the pulsing music of the club. She was surrounded by a throng of admirers, each one of them as drawn to her vitality and spirit as he had been. After nearly three thousand years, he had found her once more. He'd been thwarted once before and that bastard would not take her from him again.

She had been off his radar for many years, buffered by the Hellmouth. Now that it was gone and she was no longer charged with the mission of protecting it, she was his once more. He felt the air shift around him. Sliding his gaze calmly to his right, he spoke quietly to the figure in the corner.

"She is beauty unleashed, no?" He murmured quietly, not fully drawing his gaze away from his woman.

"If you say so, my lord." The woman replied, her voice barely a whisper but he heard her clearly.

"I thought I told you not to come here. You draw too much attention to yourself." He said flatly.

"I am sorry, my lord. Do forgive the intrusion." She said, this time more demurely.

"Am I to assume this intrusion bears news?" The Immortal demanded.

"Yes, my lord. The Key has found a third knight. The witch has sent a slayer to collect a fourth."

"She moves very quickly." The Immortal said flatly, clenching his fists. "I was lead to understand that it would be very difficult for her to find the knights."

"I believed that as well, but the Powers have their own plans. I learned only recently that they have found the Dark Knight -"  
"Where is he?" The Immortal spun on her, his fist suddenly around her throat. She gasped, and tried to loosen his hands. "Where?" He seethed.

"Paris, my lord . . " She wheezed.

The Immortal released her throat, and the gowned woman fell heavily to her knees. Dark curly hair made a curtain around her face as she took deep gasping breaths. He didn't even spare her a glance. His eyes were back on his woman on the dance floor.

"And the sleeper?"

"He - he is still unconscious, my lord. It will be some time before they find him. The Powers are confidant she will find him too late, and already be entangled with the Dark Knight."

"Are they?"

"Yes, my lord." But she couldn't hide the uncertainty in her voice.

"They did not tell you, did they?" He asked, contempt in his voice.

"But they do not know, my lord!" She cried, placing a hand on his arm. He shook her off forcefully.

"You are not to touch me. Get from my sight, you've nothing to offer me! Be gone!" The Immortal hissed in a deadly tone, his eyes narrowed coldly.

"Yes, my lord."

The Immortal felt the air lighten as she disappeared. He turned back to his slayer on the dance floor. She was looking at him then, a confused look in her eyes. He controlled his anger and gave her an easy going smile. The Powers would not take her from him again. She was his prize.

Naples

Lanyon Fairview brushed the hair out of his face as he took in the breath-taking view of the sea from the cliff-side cafe. He pulled out the tiny sketch book and began dutifully writing his column. Marty, while being a generous boss, wanted something concrete from this 'mandatory vacation'. The fact that Lanyon's work had been crap since he'd caught John and Susan sprawled out on his sofa. And the subsequent knocking John unconscious. His oldest mate buck naked with his girlfriend.

After three weeks of crappy columns, Marty had assigned him to this travel journal weekly column that he'd offered two months ago. Lanyon had turned it down because he'd been planning on proposing to Sue, now he really didn't have that holding him back. So he'd packed, made the arrangements and was off. His main goal was to find something quirky about each of the main cities - the night life so to speak. Paris, Barcelona, Brussels, and Rome had been his main objectives, but he'd stopped in a lot of smaller towns along the way. Sighing, he lifted his camera and snapped a few night scenes. He readjusted the lens and panned along the view of the beach below.

The beach was virtually deserted save for one single figure darting out to the water's edge. He zoomed in more. There stood a long haired woman with a knowing smile on her lips as she turned to stare at him. Lanyon blinked - what the hell? She mouthed four words to him.

__

I'm in Rome, Lan.

Lanyon nearly dropped his camera. He swore he could have heard her whispering it to him. Putting it back to his eye, he searched the beach for that woman once more. But she was gone.

"You've had too much wine, Lan." He muttered to himself. But in the back of his mind, he knew he was heading to Rome. Maybe that dream woman really was in Rome.

_London_

The sun was getting lower in the sky and the damn cab was fifteen minutes late. This was the last time she did a favor for Red and Little D. She took another drag on the cigarette. She was supposed to be quitting anyway. Damn.

Faith angrily crushed the cigarette into the pavement with her boot as she watched the cab pull up. She hefted the army surplus bag full of supplies onto her shoulder and slipped the apartment keys into her jacket pocket.

"You Faith Summers?" The lean cabbie called, opening the cab's door.

"She gave you the name Summers." Faith snorted. "You gotta be shittin' me."

"That mean you ain't her?" He sighed, looking up at her with something akin to disgust and annoyance.

"No, I'm her. You Bishop?" She snapped. This is what doing favors got her - annoyed knight boys. Okay, so they didn't get her _that _all the time, but they usually got her an annoyed somebody.

"They tell you my name?"

"Trevor Bishop, the cabbie man." Faith grinned, trying to make this not so confrontational.

"Where you headed to?"

"Friend's place. Here's the address."

Faith handed the cabbie the card with the building address on it. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"It's hard to say." Faith shrugged, tossing the bag into the backseat.

"Sure it is." Trevor snorted, flicking the meter on.

He wasn't bulky. Had a few inches on her, which gave him the ability to look down on her. He wasn't as tall as Wood, but he had the height she liked. Red had said he had fighting experience. He had light shaggy brown hair and dark eyes. Faith liked what she saw, and it was much better than that diver's license picture.

"You been driving this thing long?" Faith asked, leaning forward towards the Plexiglas that separated them.

"Yeah."

"You any good?"

"Some say."

"You don't like to talk much, do you?" When he didn't say anything, she continued. "I know just your type, man. Mister-no-talk, all action. Bet you're rock 'em sock 'em, am I right?"

"Is that a line you feed everyone?" He replied, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes sparked with something.

"Nah, only the good lookin' guys." She grinned. "Ok, so I've used it once or twice."  
"I figured."

"So, you off soon?" Faith said huskily. "I'm new to town, and I figured I might as well find myself a native who knows the lay of the land."

"I shouldn't." Trevor said seriously.

"No strings, just a drink and some conversation." Faith said, thinking of the only way to get him to come with her. "I don't bite. Scout's honor."

"Scout?" Something about that word struck him as odd.

"Ok, so I was never a girl scout." Faith rolled her eyes. This was supposed to be easy. "C'mon, my treat."

Trevor stared at her for a moment. There was something about that look in her eye. There was almost a pleading quality in her eye. It reminded him of something he knew from before.

"Fine."

"Damn, that was easy." Faith grinned nervously. She didn't like this 007 shit. It was damn freaky.

"Yeah, yeah." Trevor murmured.

Boris stared at the four of them for the longest time. Then he took a deep drink of the beer in front of him. This was insanity. He was a knight? The girl, Dawn, did look familiar though.

"Are you remembering anything?" She asked quietly. The blond, Gavin, pinched her arm under the table. "Ouch."

"Dawn." Gavin warned.

"I remember little things. Grave markers. Three of them. A lot of talk about fate not being shared." Boris said quietly. "Tristan and Lancelot dead. A marker for a woman. Dag's woman. She died in the battle."

"Me." Dawn said softly.

"Badon Hill." Gwen whispered.

"You - why are you lot finding me now?"

"Because it's most likely an apocalypse." Dawn sighed. "Bors -Boris, do you believe me?"

"That we all knew each other in a past life? No."

"Well, that was simple enough." Garrett sighed, taking a deep drink of his pint.

"'The Chaste', you're working my last damn nerve." Dawn snapped. She turned to Boris. "Look, you knew _them_ in past lives. You remember the funerals! You remember Dag."

"And I remember you, but you're telling me you did some crazy ass teleporting, Dawn. You're telling me that you were there two months ago!"

"I was." Dawn closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears of frustration from rolling down her cheeks.

"You're insane."

"Well, she is that. Has a lot to do with her being very pregnant with Dag's baby. Hormones, you know." Garrett snapped.

"What?" He sputtered.

"She's pregnant." Gwen said, glaring at Garrett. "She's charged with the mission to gather you all in order to protect this baby."

"Dag's - he's going to be a father?" Boris whispered, his voice choked with emotion and the beer that went down the wrong way.

"I know how incredibly weird and psychotic this all sounds." Dawn said, breathing deeply. "We're going to need you in this fight, Boris. But I'm not gonna force you to make any decisions. We want you with us, but it's up to you to make that choice." She pulled a card from her pocket. "This is our number in London, call us if you need anything. Think about it, please?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon, guys." Dawn said, slipping from the booth.

Boris watched as the four of them left the pub. He fingered the card, flipping it over twice. As much as he was convinced it was utter lunacy, he was just as sure it wasn't. Which could be damn confusing to a man who'd just learned that he was the reincarnation of one of the Knights of the Round Table. He stared at the card, not really seeing it, but seeing himself as a young man about nineteen years old.

__

"Damnit, Dag what am I goin' to do?"

"Besides pick a name?" Dagonet gave him a small smile. The seventeen year old had a tendency to try and be funny.

"I'm not ready to be a father! Hell, by Roman law, I can't even marry the mother!"

"Bridget's father's not going to be happy about that."

"Bloody Irish wench!"

"And how's our little Vannie taking the news?" Dagonet asked, still sharpening the dagger on the whet stone.

"Vanora? Why the bloody hell would she care?"

"You are jesting?"

"No, I'm bloody not!"

"She loves you, you idiot. That is a good woman -"

"She's barely a woman."

"Fine, don't heed me." Dagonet smiled. "Congratulations, da."

"Just wait till you get one of those wenches with child. I'll laugh myself stupid."

"Won't take long, then will it?"

He downed the pint, and signaled the bartender for an other. Keep the drinks coming, forget the past. But there was something picking at him. _Dag would want you to protect his child as he would have protected yours._ Bloody past lives.

Dawn sighed heavily as the boarded the train back to London. Things hadn't gone very well today. Gwen looped Dawn's arm through hers and led her to a seat. Garrett and Gavin sat across from them.

"I'm sure he just needs a few days." Gwen said quietly. "Bors was always the one to need a few -"

"Why?" Dawn said heavily.

"Why what?"

"Why the hell did you guys agree to give up your lives and take up this mission?" Dawn asked.

"Nothing better to do." Gavin said smiling.

"I'm serious." Dawn sighed. "Why put your lives on hold for me and the baby?"

"Well, it's not just for you. It's for the world and whatever fight their getting ready to wage against us." Gwen reminded her.

"I know! But you didn't have to."

"We wanted to." Garrett said quietly. "We all felt as though we failed in our past lives. Not everyone gets to make up for things like that you know."

They were quiet for a moment. Garrett, while being very good for amusement factors, had a tendency to knock them flat on their asses sometimes. Damn college educated boys. He narrowed his gaze on her for a moment.

"Why did you choose to do this?"

"Choose? I didn't -"

"Yes, you did. Gar's right. And those words never cross my lips." Gwen sighed. "You could have told the Powers to bugger off. You could have chosen not to have the baby. Or you could have gone off to live in the Andes and have the baby there. You could have never continued your work with the Council, and completely separated yourself from that kind of life."

"No, I couldn't have. They - Giles and Buffy - wanted me to get rid of the baby, when they thought I'd been raped. I - I couldn't get rid of my baby."

"And if Dag hadn't been killed? Would you have felt the same?" Gavin asked.

"Yes." Dawn said confidently. "There was never any other choice."

"That's kinda how we feel." Gwen said quietly.

"Plus, we love ya, so there's all that mushy shite thrown in for good measure." Gavin said grinning.

"More like 'Willow' wanting." Gwen retorted. "Honestly, I've never seen anyone so infatuated with another person in my whole life."

"Oh, and you weren't infatuated with Arthur in the same way?" Gavin asked, tossing the program book at her.

"I take it back, I have seen someone that infatuated with someone else before." She grinned wickedly. "Garrett with himself!"

"Oi, what did I do?"

"Please, those girls this afternoon didn't praise you half as much as you praised yourself."

Dawn smiled softly. They could just do that - take something so serious and put the best spin on it. She was really very lucky to have them. She hoped Boris would join them as well - and Tristan whenever they found him.

Willow rubbed her eyes. She'd been sitting at the computer for hours, hoping to find something on Lancelot. She stared at the sketch and set up the search one more time. Before pressing enter, she stared at the scruffy faced image. Two series of clicks later there was a completely clean-shaven Lancelot.

She hit enter and reached for her bottle of water. After about fifteen seconds there was a pinging noise. There was by-line picture of a local journal columnist. Grabbing her cell, she punched in Dawn's number.

"Will? What's up?" Dawn's voice crackled over the phone.

"I found Lancelot."

"Really? Where is he?"

"Right now? On assignment in Southern Europe."

"What's his name? Assignment? What does that mean?"

"Lanyon Fairview. He lives in Northern England, he's 25 and a photojournalist. He's on some sort of travel assignment, or that's what his editor says he's on. He should be back in a few weeks, so I should be able to find his address before then."

"Thanks, Will! I knew you could do it." But Dawn's voice sounded strained.

"How did things go with Boris?" Willow asked, tapping her pen on the desk.

"On a scale of 1 to 10? About 4.59."

"That good?"

"Well, he believes he had a past life - he just doesn't believe that I was there two months ago." Dawn sighed. "Hopefully things will go easier when we track down Tristan tomorrow."

"About that . . . " Willow said nervously.

"Will? What did you do?"

"I, uh, I kinda sent Faith to go find him."

"You sent Faith to find Tristan." Dawn said flatly over the phone.

"_She did what?"_ Willow winced at the sound of Gavin's voice over the line. _"Give me that phone!"_

"It was great talking to you Dawn. I'll call you later with her location. Bye!" Willow squeaked, clapping the phone shut.

"I'm calling her back!" Gavin growled.

"Gav, she's not gonna answer. Faith - can handle Tristan." Dawn said, worrying that Tristan would freak out even worse than Bors had.

"Well, that's the problem." Garrett snorted. He was met with three angry glares.

__

Near Hadrian's Wall

Doctor Kingston's offices were closing for the night, and one lone nurse remained there. The red-haired woman hummed along with the radio as she put the final papers into the envelope labeled _Summers, Dawn_.

"Jenna?" The doctor called from the back examining room.

"Artie? I thought you'd left." Jenna Vanny called, staring up at her old childhood friend and now employer.

"Just about to - I thought you'd be gonna as well." The dark haired man leaned on the counter.

"Just about to nip off as well. Just getting the file all ready for our new patient." Jenna held up the file folder.

"New patient?" Artie leaned forward, staring at the name. "Dawn Summers?"

"A Yank living in London. Her family's moving into the Old Grange house south of the old. She's eight weeks pregnant."

"Why is she moving up here?" Artie said softly.

"I don't know! I didn't ask for her life's story, you idiot!" Jenna laughed at her old friend. Slipping the file into the cabinet, she stretched. "I've gotta be going, Mum's making her famous chicken dish tonight." Jenna said, grabbing for her coat.

"Damn, I promised my folks I'd meet them for dinner. Da's still not sure I'm capable of taking over the practice." Artie sighed.

"Arthur Wallace Kingston, you are capable of running this practice. Your da knows you're capable." Jenna tugged on his arm. "Come on, your folks are waiting."

"Right."

__

North of the Wall

There was a faint beeping noise he could hear that surrounded him. He struggled to wake, but they would not let him. Every time he tried to, but a blond haired woman would return to his mind telling him that it wasn't time yet. He was as trapped as he had been before. The woman told him that it wasn't his time yet, that he had to learn what it was to live in this world. So he 'slept', and the outside world moved on without him once more.

A/N: I am so sorry this chapter took so long to get out. It was one stupid thing after another. Next chapter should be up within the next week.


	4. 4: Bright Lights, Old Sights

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: Long talks, old friends, and what dreams are made of.

A/N: This here is my soap box. I'm up on it, screaming my head off because my stupid disk with the first half of this stupid chapter got too full and I can't open anything on it, so I'm pissed. Capital P. It had my quote for this chapter, the explanation on the quotes, funny little things and the beginning of this chapter. So I'm pissed. Not only that, I lost what I had on my drabbles, my html formats for all my latest chapters and all my fic for all ideas, my latest chapter of IS, and two of my other KA crossovers. Bastard disk.  
On the quotes: My brilliant idea was to have a quote from an Arthurian poem or story at the beginning of each chapter. I didn't in the first chapter (I threw in the prophecy from Protector instead) but I did in the second. I forgot to add one in chapter three. But I have one for this chapter - or I did until my disk was bastard and wouldn't let me open it. Anyway, now I'm fumbling onwards in the story.

__

4. Bright Lights, Old Sights

__

"And sometimes thro' the mirror blue  
The knights come riding two and two  
She hath no loyal knight and true,  
The Lady of Shalott.  
**-The Lady of Shalott; Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

Dawn slid the access card into the dorm entryway with a heavy heart. The others had dropped her off for the night, promising that tomorrow they'd find Tristan and somehow everything would work out fine with Boris. She wasn't as sure as they had been, and this was her mission. She even half-wondered if Buffy had been right when she'd said this mission was too much for her to handle. She hadn't even made it to the elevator before that notion was out of her mind with a fierce determination. Dawn tilted her head back against the wall of the elevator. Things were rough now, but one day they would be easier. They had to be.

When the ping of the elevator door brought her back to reality. She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter to eleven. She was supposed to do a room check fifteen minutes ago. Sighing, for what felt like the hundredth time today, she grabbed the clipboard by her door with their names. Dawn trudged to each room, knocking quietly and checking off the names of the bleary eyed girls. Less than two weeks and she'd be done with this. It was kinda sad and in a weird way, she would really miss it. Slipping the sheet of names into one of the old fashioned message chutes, she sent it off to the main desk in the lobby of the dorm.

She reached for her door knob, but before her hand could touch it the door creaked open. Her entire body tensed as she slowly slipped her hand into her purse, reaching for the stun gun that currently was replacing her trusty stiletto. She opened the door slowly, trying not to alert whoever was in there that she was there. She could hear a noise coming from the kitchenette. They were in her apartment for food? Huh?

Dawn tried to peer over the countertop to see who or what was in there. She raised the stun gun higher just as the intruder stood up. Spinning around, with half of a turkey sandwich in her mouth stood a very familiar red-head. Dawn took a relieved breath, her heart pounding as she glared at the other girl.

"You know, you could have gotten your ass kicked." Dawn said, crossing her arms.

"Please, I'm a slayer." Vivien 'Vi' Costello rolled her eyes as she swallowed the large bite of her sandwich.

"What are you doing here, Vi?" Dawn said, tossing her purse on the small loveseat as she walked around to grab the carton of milk from her fridge. "I thought you were assigned to the Cleveland Hellmouth?"

"I was, but there was this thing with Principal Wood and well, Lucy - the slayer from India - is the main slayer there now." Vi said sheepishly.

"Whoa, wait. What happened with Principal Wood?" Dawn interrupted.

"I might have said some harsh things about him being a crappy watcher and not being all for the mission."

"Yowch." Dawn grimaced. There was something, most likely involving Nikki Wood, Buffy and Faith and the whole slayer mission thing that rubbed Robin Wood the wrong way.

"Yeah." Vi nodded. "There's also this thing about my six months being up and I'm on the learning -slash- teaching aspect of my slayerhood." Vi brightened, taking another huge bite of her sandwich.

The six month limit had been strictly enforced once the oldest age group of the new slayers were determined to be trained enough. For every six months of active patrol, there were six months of down-time. During this down time, the slayers went back to the Council's new Slayer School to train with new watchers and teach the younger slayers what Willow liked to call 'practical slaying skills'.

"So I'm taking over your floor when you move out." Vi tried to say casually, "And well, the main slayer dorm is kinda full right now, and since I'm moving -"

"Vi, you can crash here." Dawn cut her off.

"Thanks, Dawnie. It'll just be like old times." The slayer grinned, taking another bite of the sandwich.

"Smoke?" Faith asked, taking a deep drag on her cigarette.

"Yeah, why not." Trevor said noncommittally. "What's your real last name?"

"What?"

"My ears still work. Said Summers wasn't your last name." Trevor glanced in the review mirror.

"It's Lehane." Faith said, cocking her head to the side as she handed him her spare smoke.

"That French?"

"Cajun or so I've been told. My mom didn't have a whole lot a time to tell me much more than that my daddy was a good ole Cajun boy." She took another drag. "What bout you? Whatcha got in you?"

"Russian and English."

"Russian?" That explained the dark hair and the stubble.

"Born there before the wall came down. Mum's Russian, Dad's a Londoner." Trevor said flatly as he lit the cigarette. "This the place?"

"Yeah. You gotta drop this off anywhere?" Faith asked, patting the backseat.

"A block down."

"You gonna come back here?" She asked again.

"I think I might."

Vi stared at her blankly. For ten minutes. Dawn sighed as she took another sip of her milk. Vi just kept staring.

"Wow." She said, blinking. "That kinda sucks."

"Yeah."

"So you totally had this once-in-a-lifetime love and then poof. Arrowed to death?" Vi shook her head. "Cupid must be on crack."

"I think he might."

"You're gonna be a mom." Vi blew out a puff of breath. "Wow. You're like, my age."

"This coming from the girl who kills vampires for a living?" Dawn felt her lip curling into a smile.

"Yeah, but that - that's not raising a kid. Like a whole little world depends on you."

"It's exactly like being a slayer, then?"

"But way more personal." Vi said quietly. "You know who you're protecting, we just get nameless faces."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So, we so have to celebrate. Is there any way to celebrate and not have an apocalypse? Cuz Kennedy was telling me you guys couldn't have a party without an apocalypse."

"You can take the girl outta the apocalypse, but you can't keep it away for good." Dawn said smiling. "Why?"

"Cuz it's an excuse for a party?" Vi asked hopefully.

__

Sarmatia, 452

__

The ground shook with the thunder of hooves stamping into the fertile soil. They were still quite far off, but they seemed to be telling her the horrible truth. The Romans had come again, and this time they would claim his life as their property. A girl of ten years stood looking out at where he stood with his family. Her young heart ached as he looked quietly on.

"Lancelot!" She called, pushing her way through the crowd that had gathered around him. His eyes locked on her then, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She always did. But this time, it was also in fear of what this meant. He was leaving.

Lancelot saw her pained look, the way her eyes watered just as his mother's did. What could he do for it? Nothing. There wasn't another option for them. If he did not go, then the village would pay and take him anyway. She looked up at him, her eyes so very young, yet older somehow.

"Lancelot, no!" She whimpered, clinging to her childhood friend's arm. "You cannot go!"

"Elaine, I must." He said quietly. "By the oath my father's grandfather's have sworn to uphold, I must give my allegiance to the Romans." There was a bitter anger to the boy's words.

"Then I shall never see you again." Elaine said tearfully, squeezing his hand tightly.

"No tears, Elaine." Lancelot smiled bravely for her, wiping at the tears that stained her cheeks. "I shall return just as my father did. I promise."

"Then I shall be brave and learn to be a warrior as well."

"You cannot be a knight, Elaine." Lancelot sighed, remembering their many arguments on the subject.

"I shall. I will see you one day on the battlefield, and I will be the greatest warrior there." She said boastfully, trying to rid herself of these silly tears.

"Not greater than I, little Elaine."

"No." She said softly, leaning up to plant a soft, childlike kiss on his lips. "Never greater than you, but your equal."

Lancelot blushed a bit at her kiss. He had not been expecting it, and it had shaken him a bit. She was a childhood playmate, had grown with him since infancy. His father called to him then. There was no time to think of her and what the kiss had meant. He was going to be a knight. And as he left young Elaine to herself, she let the tears roll freely.

"You're a fool, Elaine. Pinning your hopes on that boy. By the time the Romans are through with him, you shall be married with squalling babes." Morgana said spitefully.

"I shall never marry." Elaine spat at the dark haired girl who stood beside her.

"You planning on becoming an old hag, then? He's to be gone for fifteen years. You'll be five and twenty by the time he returns, if he returns at all. You'll be well past your prime."

"Nonsense. Lancelot has promised to return, and he shall!" Elaine said angrily.

"You only speak nonsense, Elaine." Morgana laughed.

Rome, 2005

Buffy sat up abruptly in bed. Her skin was coated in a fine sheen of perspiration. Her heart beat like a drum against her chest. Taking a shaky breath, she vowed to never drink that much _ever_ again.

"How many times do you tell yourself 'beer bad', Buffy?" An eerie voice said from the corner of her room.

Buffy's head snapped up. There in the shadows of her bedroom was a dark haired figure. She discreetly reached for the nearest weapon, Mr. Pointy. The person gave a small, breathy laugh.

"Your stake will not work against my magic, slayer." The woman stepped from the shadows. Her hair was black, save for the two vivid streaks of teal dyed strands of hair that hung over her eyes.

"What are you?"

"An old friend, my child. Settling old debts." She smiled. "Nothing more, nothing less."

Before Buffy could ask another question, the woman stepped back into the shadows.

"I'll be seeing you." She said softly, as she disappeared completely from the room.

"What the hell was that?" Buffy said to herself. "And I thought the cheese man was weird."

The dark haired woman stepped quietly into the inner chambers of Powers stronghold. Gone were the dark concealing clothing she had worn only moments ago. She was swathed in brilliantly white robes. Waiting there for her was an old man.

"Morgana, is it done?"

"Yes, the dreams have begun." She walked past him, barely acknowledging him. "And your part in all this?"

"She does not suspect. She believes that we are blind to her actions."

"Europa is a fool."

"She thinks she is wiser because she has a few hundred years on us." Morgana smiled knowingly.

"She works too closely with the abomination." The man said tiredly.

"Have the Powers not found him yet?"

"No. He shields his resting place too well. A very good strategy."  
"Yes."

"The knight is closer than we told her." He said quietly.

"Naples. I have seen him." Morgana smiled softly. "It has been too long since I have seen him last. He saw me as well."

"Saw you?"

"Well, he saw me as her." Morgana paused in her walking. "We must play this close to the chest. If she were to get wind of his true location, it would be disastrous."

"Why do you think we paired her with the Seer? The girl is a wrench in her master's plan. Europa has grown very sloppy. And it's starting to show."

"Still, she has a card up her sleeve that we don't." Morgana sighed. "She has the Immortal pulling her strings."

_London_

Faith tossed back another drink. One of the perks of having supernatural powers was that it was harder for her to get completely wasted than it was for a normal girl. Trevor, well, he didn't have that nifty little bonus.

"You 'mind me of a bird I think I sorta knew." Trevor said drunkenly.

"I really doubt that." Faith chuckled to herself.

They'd only had two drinks each, but then again she'd drugged him with one of Willow's potions. Trevor looked at her through squinted eyes. There was something about her, she had a 'caged bird' look to her.

"Hey, you're free." He said quietly, leaning towards her. "Be free."


	5. 5: Good Morning, Good Morning

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: Mysterious strangers, confusion, and surprise, surprise!

A/N: Gah. It seems like I should have more of this story done, but one thing after another keeps popping up on me. Ok, in other news, wrote a pure KA fic featuring Bors and Vanora. Yay me. Except I've gotten like no reviews for it, so I don't know if it's crap or not. coughshameless self-plugcough Anywho, back to the story shall we?

__

5. Good Morning, Good Morning

"The lady will come when I will return to England. And with my return will come peace, and there will be no more war."

- **King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, Howard Pyle**

The sun streamed through her blinds at an ungodly hour. Dawn blinked, not wanting to get out of the cocoon of her blankets. The night had not been nice. After another half hour of talking to Vi, there was cake. And after the yummy cake, came the not-so-yummy early morning sickness. She was never going to look at cake the same. It almost turned her off cake forever. Speaking of the red-haired slayer, Vi was now starring at her with a disappointed look on her face.

"What are you doing, Vi?"

"I was trying to read a book, but your title selections suck."

"Then watch TV."

"I can't - they're all British shows. The BBC is driving me nuts."

"Vi! Then pop in a video."

"Can't - repetitiveness abounds."

"Why not? What's wrong with my books and movies?"

"1. all your books are on Arthur and his knights. _The Arthur of the Welsh, Hadrian's Wall, Arthur Rex, The Arthurian Handbook, The Mists of Avalon, The Once and Future King, A Conneticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court._ 2. Your movies are all on the same thing. _A Kid In King Arthur's Court, First Knight, Sword of the Valiant, Quest for Camelot, Monty Python & the Holy Grail, Excalibur, A Knight in Camelot _- do I really need to go on?"

"You missed _The Sword in the Stone_." Dawn said tiredly.

"Ok, so my choices are reading about King Arthur, or watching him in all his Technicolor splendor. I had more choices down in the Hellmouth than I do here." Vi said grinning.

"I have _Signs, _hidden on the bottom shelf. It's next to _Titanic _and _Meet Joe Black_."

"Do you have anything with actual humor in it?"

"I have Monty Python, but you turned your nose up at it." Dawn said rolling over.

"Well, there's only so many times you can hear -" Vi was cut off by someone knocking on the door. "I'll get it."

"Thank god." Dawn muttered, burying her head in her pillow.

"Dawn?"

"Vi, just tell her she can use the microwave and let me get some more sleep." Dawn cried, thinking it was one of her girls.

"Well, I would. But your little friend with the knightly mojo doesn't want to use the microwave."

"Little? I am not little." Garrett's offended voice remarked.

"Oh, in that case." Vi said rolling her eyes, "Your friend with the obvious inferiority complex and size issues is here. Oh, and some chick."

"Morning, Dawn." Gwen said smiling. "I'm Gwen, by the way. And this lug is Garrett."

"Galahad the Chaste?" Vi said knowingly, trying to repress the giggle that seemed to form out of nowhere.

"No, it's Garrett." Garrett snapped.

"Guys, way too early for this." Dawn sat up in her bed, grumbling at the three of them. _Three?_ "Wait a second. Where's Gavin?"

The three of them never went anywhere without each other, especially Garret and Gavin. Gwen and Garrett sifted uneasily. They shared a look before they both began talking. Dawn felt her stomach bottom out.

"Where's Gavin? He didn't go half-cocked to the safe house Faith took Tristan to, did he?" When neither of them said anything she guessed again. "Ok, he went to confront Bors? Tracked down Lancelot's editor and pinned down where he was? Made any headway in finding Arthur?"

"No, it's none of that." Garrett coughed.

"Then what? Where is he?"

"Well, he - " Gwen hedged.

"What. Did. He. Do." Dawn ground out the words.

"He went to go yell a bit at Willow." Gwen said in a rush.

"What?"

Willow woke up with her keyboard stuck to her face. Faith was supposed to call her and report in after the potion took effect. But that deadline was about six hours ago. Which led to the worrying. She didn't have very long to worry about Faith right then, because the door of her office flew open. A very pissed off Gavin stood there. She really should be worrying about herself.

The normal happy demeanor that Gavin seemed to wear like a second skin, and the one thing that made him attractive to her was gone. Ok, so it wasn't the _only_ thing that attracted her to him. He was big, he was intimidating, and it so wasn't helping her nerves. Some of her nerves must have been showing, because his brow suddenly furrowed in confusion and his frown wasn't as imposing.

"What's wrong?" Gavin asked.

"What?" Willow wasn't following him.

"You look like I just kicked a puppy."

"Well, pretty close there, Mister. You're here to yell at me, right? And I don't know why."

"You don't know why I might want to yell at you?"

"Nope, not a clue." Willow looked away.

"You're a bad liar." Gavin paused. "You know why."

"Because I sent Faith to pin down Tristan?" Willow said hotly. "Darn tootin' I sent her. I wasn't about to send Dawnie. I _saw_ this guy die. It's not gonna be like you and Garrett and -"

"If you say Boris, then you're dead wrong. He overreacted." Gavin snapped. "What's to say this Trevor won't go off and overreact to Faith?"

"Because Faith can handle herself. She's a slayer, Gavin. She doesn't need to be coddled and protected -"

"And neither does Dawn." The two snapped their heads around to face the quartet standing in the doorway.

"Dawnie -" Willow started to say, only to be cut off by Dawn.

"I didn't say I didn't appreciate it, I just said that I didn't need to be coddled." Dawn sighed. "Besides, how much of that rant was about me and how much was about you two?"

Willow's mouth opened then closed quickly. She wasn't sure why she had started yelling when Gavin had stormed in all Mr. Bossy-pants. Besides the obvious fact that he shouldn't have gotten so mad at her. He didn't have the rights to yell at her. She noticed Gavin didn't have anything to say either, so she didn't feel like a big idiot.

"Since you both choose to play the Dawn's-an-idiot game," Dawn said dryly, "Where is Faith holed up at?"

"At the council warehouse in Northern London. The one Buffy turned down for being the London based training building." Willow said, handing her the address.

"That's where we're headed." Dawn said tucking the card in her jeans pocket. "So, the goal is to get Tristan and Faith, explain to him the situation and then go shopping. Then we meet back at my place and finish packing my things an unpacking Vi's."

"Vi's?" Willow's head snapped up, noticing the other red-headed girl for the first time. "Hey Vi, when did you get into town?" Willow said, pulling the younger girl into a hug.

"Last night. I'm taking over Dawn's in-house position in the dorms."

"What happened with Cleveland?"

"Words."

"Huh?"

"Guys, we're kinda on a tight schedule, because the longer we leave Tristan -"

"Trevor." Garrett pointed out.

"Trevor, Tristan, whatever he's going by now. The longer we leave him with Faith, the more groin-y they're likely to get." Dawn sighed.

"Oh. Eeww. Right." Vi's nose crinkled. "It's a really good thing I don't know what this guy looks like, the visuals of pelvic happy Faith is enough to -"

"Vi, stop." Garrett said, clamping a hand over the red-headed slayer's mouth.

He really shouldn't have done that. Vi bit down lightly on his middle finger. Garrett yelped, not so much in pain as apposed to the avid disgust that her saliva had made contact with his hand.

"That is foul!" He said, wiping his hand on her shirt, not really looking where his hand was wiping.

"Hey!" Vi slapped at his hand as it made contact with her breast. Vi glared at him. "Oh, yeah, I can see why they called you _the Chaste_, Mister grabby hands!"

Gwen and Dawn burst into a giggle fit, while Gavin broke out into high pitched guffaws, and Willow had to bit her lips to keep from laughing. Garrett was still completely grossed out by the fact that she had bit him, and Vi was blushing from the fact that this kinda hot guy had just touched her breast.

"Ok, guys, we really need to get going. Are you two coming?" Dawn asked Willow and Vi.

"Err, I think I might skip out on that field trip." Vi said, still blushing as she ducked her head down.

"I should come with you guys." Willow said, giving Vi a comforting smile. "I did send Faith to find him."

"Vi, you've got a key to the apartment?"

"Yeah. I'll see you guys later." Vi said, quickly walking down the hall to get as far away from Garrett as possible.

As soon as she rounded the corner, Dawn and Gwen smacked him upside the head before walking out the hall. Before Garrett could even say anything in response, Gavin just shook his head.

Boris watched as his boys warmed up and stretched. To be honest, his thoughts weren't even on the football players or practice. His mind was on that little girl he'd met yesterday. She had seemed so familiar, but she must have been completely round the bend.

He remembered the dreams he'd had as a child. First of a shaggy brown haired boy, who'd later lost all of that hair followed by a red-haired girl who had a wicked aim. Dag and Vanny, as he had called them in the dreams seemed to age with him. She was younger.

If what Dawn had told him was true, then these were really memories of his past life. He could believe that, he just wasn't sure he could believe that she'd been hurled back in time.

"Oi, Boris!" Danny, one of the assistants called.

"What?" Boris snapped.

"You've got a call, mate. Some bird named Dawn." Boris winced. "You want me to tell her you're out?"

"Nah, I'll take it." Boris made his way over to the office. He picked up the receiver. "Hullo?"

"Boris? It's Dawn." Her voice sounded panicked over the phone

"Yeah, whatcha want? I haven't made my mind up yet on your offer."

"Boris. . .look, something really bad is going down."

"What, where are you, Dawn?"

"The guys and I are at the Oyster Shell pub. We were looking for one of the knights, but we're in danger, and they've got - oh, no. Boris -" The phone went dead in his hand.

"Dawn? Dawn!" He shouted. He snatched up his keys and raced out the doors.

"Boris, where're you going?" Danny shouted.

"Emergency. I'll be back later!"

Europa smiled wickedly as she watched the knight run off right into her carefully laid trap. He was as stupid now as he was then. Europa felt her master's call. Within the moment she was in his private apartments in Rome.

"You called, my lord?" She said, bowing low.

"Yes, you wretch. Have you disposed of the dark knight yet?"

"N- no, my lord. I -"

"The words that next come from your lips best not be that you have yet to find him, Europa." The Immortal's fist clenched tightly around her wrist.

"I - my lord, I have sent one of the knights into a trap." She said weakly.

"That is not what I asked, you useless wretch."

"I have sent Bors to his most certain death, my Lord!"

"If it is not Lancelot, then I do not care, Europa! He presents the biggest challenge to me, not that half-wit Bors." The Immortal screamed.

"My lord, I thought it was Arthur who presented the biggest obstacle." Europa spat back, the pain in her arm driving her to her knees before the Immortal.

"Do your job, Europa, or you will not have to worry about your childish tricks and traps you play on the other knights. You will cease to exist!" He flung her to the floor. Europa cried out in relief as she hit the ground. "Now do your end of the bargain, or I will end it."

"Yes, my lord."

The Immortal waited a few moments before summoning the assassins. Europa was useful in her own right, but right now he needed professionals, and Europa was still a child playing games. Besides, these two had gotten the job done before. He wanted Lancelot dead, and the prophecy squashed. The two blonde men bowed to him as they entered his apartments. The Immortal simply smiled.

The sunlight shone down into Faith's eyes as she pulled herself up from the half-made bed beneath her. She pulled the sheet tightly around her body. The man beside her was breathing steadily, still deep asleep with one arm folded across his naked chest. What the hell had happened exactly? Faith shook her head. If _that_ had happened, you'd think she'd have remembered it.

She turned her head sharply to the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Faith looked around for a weapon, but hadn't found one when the lock clicked open. The door snapped open, getting stuck on the chain lock. Faith stepped forward, ready for anything.

"Faith?" Dawn's voice broke through the silence.

"Shit, D. Why didn't you say so earlier? Hold on, let me get the lock."

Faith yanked the lock open and pulled the door back. It wasn't just Dawn, it was Red and Dawn's little Knight patrol. The two men gaped openly at Faith and Willow gave her a hurt look.

"Didn't the potion work?"

"Yeah, it was working Red - "

"Then what's with the under-the-sheets tango?"

"Willow, if ya'd let me finish, I could tell you that - I don't remember what happened after the guy kissed me."

"You kissed Tristan?" Dawn's jaw dropped.

"Trevor." Faith corrected her. "And the dude kissed _me._"

"Faith -" Willow started to say, but Faith continued.

"Look, you sent me to get him, I didn't ask any questions. I did it without talking it to death."

"Faith!"

"I don't know what happened -"

"No, but I do." Trevor said, coming to stand behind her. "What I don't know is why I was brought here, and I'd really like to know."

Morgana seethed as she watched Europa try to hide the bruises on her arm. But he had warned her to not alert Europa that she knew. He waited for her in the main chamber.

"Morgana, Europa plans to kill one of the knights. She has set a trap for him."

"That wretch goes too far, Merlin." Morgana hissed.

"Yes, but we cannot let her know that we know, Morgana. She must believe us to be ignorant fools." He warned. "We must prevent him from falling victim to Europa's trap."

"I know just the girl." Morgana grinned.

A/N: Dun, dun, dun. (yeah, I'm evil. yup, I know it.)


	6. 6: What Was Lost

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: Mysterious strangers, confusion, and surprise, surprise! (notice how this summary is the same as the last? Cuz it all still applies.)

A/N: Ok, I had yet another disk malfunction. Little was lost, however (I only lost one story - the rest had back ups. I was in the process of backing up one of them when it died on me - I am so never buying disks from my school's bookstore again.)

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6. What Was Lost

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"It is harder to kill a whisper than even a shouted calumny."

- **The Last Enchantment, Mary Stewart**

_Sarmatia, 456_

_Two girls, both as different as night and day in complexion and build huddled together in the back of the Roman cart. Neither whimpered, like the younger girls who had been taken as slaves. They sat as close together as possible. They had been chained to the cart, unlike the other women and girls who hadn't put up a fight. These two had fought like hellcats, mimicking the actions of their elders. The two teenaged girls were the only ones who had survived._

"Elaine?" Morgana hissed through the bitter cold.

"What?" Elaine said tiredly, wishing she could just sleep.

"Do not fall asleep, Elaine. Remember what Viviane told us. The cold will make us tired, and then it would kill us. We did not fight the Romans to die in a cart like animals, Elaine." Morgana cried, pinching the exposed arm flesh beneath Elaine's tattered cloak.

"Stop it, Morgana. We are as good as dead. The Romans will kill us for fighting back." Elaine said bitterly.

"Then think of your Lancelot. Did you not swear to him that you would meet him once again? That you would wait for him? Is he not fighting in the north, like you swore you would fight here?" Morgana pushed on, trying to get Elaine to hang on just a bit longer.

"Yes."

"Then you must fight it, Elaine. Do not let these Roman dogs wear you down. We are Sarmatian Warriors, my sister. We are not defeated easily."

"We fight." Elaine replied. "We choose to fight."

"Yes, we choose for ourselves how we live or how we die."

Vi sagged against Dawn's sofa the second she got back to the apartment. That Garrett guy was a piece of work. Mr. I'm-so-cool-just-cuz-I-used-to-be-a-knight. Whatever. He wasn't all that cool, or cute, or hot, or -

"Snap out of it, Vi!" She chastised herself. "No naughty thoughts about 'the Chaste'. You'd only feed his ego."

Convinced he was off her mind, Vi yanked a piece of paper out of her pocket and grabbed Dawn's phone. She punched in the first number. It rang three times before it picked up.

"Hey, it's me. Yeah, we're gonna do it tonight." She paused. "No, not that! Yes, bring it. Are you sure you've got everything, cuz we can't mess this up. Uh-huh, six thirty. Nope, she'll be out the rest of the day. Okay, bye."

In the grand halls of the ever-white heavens, two Powers converged in quiet conversation. One was in the form of an older man, his graying brown hair hung loosely in his eyes. The other was a waif of a girl, looking no more than eighteen. Her dark hair was plaited loosely down her back, two teal colored strands framed her pale face. They spoke quietly, trying not to be overheard by those who had no business meddling in their concerns.

"Who are you planning on sending, Morgana?" Merlin hissed quietly.

"I cannot go to the mortal realm - it is far too dangerous." Morgana said thoughtfully. "Europa would catch wind of it."

"Yes. She has kept a watchful eye since her last meeting with the abomination." Merlin replied.

"I must send a specter." Morgana paused, "One who knows the child well."

"The child? Are you not trying to save the knight?" He asked.

"Yes, but if you recall, we have no more of those to send - do we?" When Merlin did not reply, she pressed further. "Merlin, there are no more knights."

"There are, but they are in a protected place. " Merlin said cautiously.

"Where?"

"I am not permitted to tell you that, Morgana." Merlin said quietly. "They cannot be called upon yet. So I ask again, who are you going to send?"

"The blond witch, the one who was lost to the child years ago. She will guide the knight away from Europa's trap and to where the other knights have converged." Morgana said, peering over her shoulder.

"You would pick the witch." Merlin said smiling.

"I would send the mother, but she has washed her hands of 'our meddling' - she says she has warned her child already, and that she sticks to that warning."

"Fate is not easy to grasp for those who have already passed on." He said knowingly.

"But it never stops turning." Morgana muttered. She'd heard this speech before. "I must go, he's getting closer to her trap."

"Hurry, child."

Her heaven was a beautiful place, in fact it was the UC Sunnydale campus. The park with the bridge, where she had sung to Willow. Her heaven sometimes blurred with other people's heavens, and even into mortals subconscious. She'd spent quite a bit of time in the subconscious of the man Dawnie had fallen for lately. He was a good man, and she'd picked well. Tara hadn't been expecting to see the black haired woman again, not since she had asked Tara to start visiting him and telling him of her old world.

"Hello Tara."

"Morgana."

"I must ask you - "

"Who do I have to warn? N-not one of the Scoobies? They'd think I was the first."

"Yes. His name is Boris - "  
"Bors? Dag's friend Bors?" Tara's head shot up.

"Yes. Europa has - well, she's playing with him. I need you to stall him, and then direct him to Dawn."

"Okay."

"Well, am I going to get an answer?" Trevor asked, tapping a pack of cigarettes against his palm. He propped the cigarette between his lips, his eyes moving up the group of strangers. "Or am I gonna have to beat it outta you?"

"See, this is why I sent Faith instead of Dawn!" The red-haired woman said nervously, and mostly directed at the familiar looking blond man. "He's a wild card!"

"Willow, shut up." The younger brunette hissed.

With the exception of the red-headed woman, the whole lot of them seemed oddly familiar. Trevor Bishop wasn't a fool, his mother hadn't raised him to just blindly follow anyone or believe them easily for that matter.

"Well?"

"You want the long, confusing version or the short confusing version?" Dawn sighed.

"The quick version, and no bullshit."

"Okay." Dawn put her hands on her hips. "You were one of King Arthur's knights, I got sucked back in time, got pregnant and was brought back. It's my job to reunite you guys, which was why Willow here, who saw you die in your past life, sent Faith to pin you down."

"It mine?"

"What?"

"The baby."

"No. He died and isn't coming back. You did, these three did. You were Tristan."

"The one who got killed because of a woman?" Trevor's eyebrow rose.

"Only in the stories." Dawn sighed.

"How did you know Faith was going to drug you?" Willow asked.

"I watch people. And I watched her pour it into my drink." Trevor pulled out a book of matches and lit the cigarette. Taking a deep drag, he looked each one of them in the eyes. "So I knew you all?"

"More or less." Dawn answered. "Gavin and Garrett were Gawain and Galahad, and Gwen was well, she was Gwen."

"Nothing's unfogging here." Trevor said quietly.

"Dawn, the trigger." Garrett hissed.

"What?" Trevor's head shot up.

"He's talking about me triggering your memories. That's how they knew - I activated them with a trigger phrase or word. But I'm drawing a blank on what I ever said to you. We only talked once, and that was after Dag -" Dawn broke off. One day she'd be able to say his name without tearing up. "It was at the Wall, the Saxons were gathering and Arthur told them all to basically run and that he was going to fight. Lancelot and Gwen went after Arthur -"

"With Garrett, Boris, myself and Trevor with you on the battlements." Gavin added.

"Yeah, and you saying something about becoming a Woad because we called you one." Garrett grinned. "Tristan said something. Damn, what was it?"

"I can't remember."

"You're the only one who lived it firsthand." Willow cried.

"Yeah, but I was also kinda drunk and grieving. It's all one big cryfest right now. It was something about battles."

Trevor watched in quiet awe as the group tried to figure out what her memory of his past life was. Faith just glared at him as she snatched her clothes off the mattress. She looked like she wanted to kill him. Trevor decided that's what he liked about her. She'd be horribly pissed when she found out that they hadn't actually slept together. He blinked, his mind and attention getting pulled back to Dawn.

"One battle does not make you a warrior." He said quietly.

"What?" Faith and Willow said at the same time.

"No, it doesn't. Which is damn good for me that that wasn't my first battle. I've been through more battles than I can even count." Dawn said slowly.

"I'll be. . ." Trevor said, images he knew seemed to flash to the front of his mind.

_Roman Empire, 457_

The cart full of new slave girls pulled into the market place. Out of the dozen or so girls, only four had actually fought. Elaine, Morgana, Viviane, and a girl from one of the Eastern tribes, Isolde. Two were dark-haired, while the third was pale and the fourth had hair the color of russet.

"We're as good as dead, sisters." Isolde spat, nursing the gash on her side.

"With that thinking we are." Viviane laughed. She had just recovered from her wounds and had been reunited with her sisters. "We must not let them sell us to the whorehouses. We must angle for - "

"Shh - guards." Morgana hissed.

The four women fell silent, putting on the masks of pain and fear that the guards had come to expect. They had lost a few girls to the sickness, a few had run off, others killed themselves to escape. These four, with their false faces would trick their way to freedom, and fight what they couldn't fool. Their plan was to find a way to make it to the North. Morgana and Elaine would seek out Lancelot, the others would come along. Isolde had mentioned once that her betrothed had been taken as a knight. He'd most likely had ended up in Britain like Lancelot. They would survive.

Trevor let his pounding head drop into his palms. The flashes were intense and surreal. Willow pulled Faith aside.

"What happened with the potion?"

"I gave it to him! He was supposed to knock him out not make him go for a round or two! It ain't my fault you screwed up the potion." Faith said defensively. "Maybe it smelled or something."

"We didn't, she didn't, and it didn't." Trevor said rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"What?" Faith snapped.

"I saw you slip the drug in my drink. When you were in the bathroom, I got the bottle out of the trash bin and put it on my lips." Trevor sighed. "Then I kissed you and you passed out. I crashed about five minutes after you."

"Then how the hell did I lose my clothes?"

"I don't know." Trevor sighed. "You did fall for that line I fed you pretty easily."

"What?"

"You looked as guilty as a little kid who stole a piece of candy from the moment I picked your ass up at the pub. I knew you were trying to get something from me all night."

"You played me? You fucking played me? You son of a bitch!" Faith yelled, her fist popping up to catch him in the jaw.

Trevor felt the power behind the punch, and felt the blood swell up in his lip. He tentatively touched his tongue to the cut. It stung, and he probably deserved it. She snatched up her jacket and his pack of cigarettes.

"You played me too." He said.

"I'm gone. My part in this little joyride is done. Dawnie, you need anything, you got the number."

"Thanks, Faith." Dawn said, her hand reaching into her bag for something.

Faith turned to face Trevor one last time. She looked like she wanted to hit him again. She simply clutched the cigarette carton tighter in her hand.

"You pull that kinda shit on little D, I'm gonna rip ya a new one, knight boy."

"Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises." Trevor sneered.

The door slammed behind her. She was halfway down the block before she realized she didn't know where the hell she was. Faith was considering going back when a wave of nausea rolled over her senses. Her head throbbed and her stomach heaved.

_Eastern_ _Sarmatia, 452_

_Isolde felt her world begin to crumble. They had announced their betrothal only four nights ago. Why had the cursed Romans chosen to come this year? Why had they chosen to take her Tristan from her?_

"No, you cannot have him!" She cried.

"Isolde, stop this." The fourteen year-old boy said simply.

"I refuse to let them take you. We can run, Tristan."

"They would only kill us."

"Then we would never be apart." Isolde yelled. "The gods cannot be this cruel. I've only just learned that you can be mine."

"I will always be yours."

"No, you won't."

The men that did return were never the same as they had been. She would be expected to move on. Fifteen years was just too long. She didn't let the tears overwhelm her. She hit him as hard as she could across the face. His lip began to bleed from her slap.

"If you leave, I won't wait for you."

"You shouldn't. I probably won't come back." Tristan said simply, his face completely blank. Without so much as a good-bye, he turned and went to his horse.

"I will go and join my sisters to the West. I will become as heartless as you."

Boris pulled his car in front of the building Dawn had given him directions to. He hoped he wasn't too late. A curvy blond woman stood in front of the doorway, peering at each person as they passed. Her eyes sparkled as they landed on Boris. He frowned.

"Boris Haggarty?" She stuttered.

"Yeah, whatcha want, luv?" He said, trying to get passed her.

"I'm a friend of Dawn's. She told me to tell you that they're all fine."

"What?"

"They left here. About twenty minutes ago. Here, this is the safe house they're at." She handed him a piece of paper. "I told her I'd tell you. She didn't mean to scare you."

"Who are you?"

"Tara." The blond smiled. "Go, they're waiting for you."

"You need a lift?"

"No, I'm heading somewhere different." Tara said sadly. "Go."

"Thanks." Boris said, climbing back behind the driver's seat.

Tara stood very still as she watched the assassins scratch their heads when they left the building ten minutes later. Then she slowly faded away. She had another job to do this day.

Dawn finally found the Milano cookies she had stuffed in her bag. She was craving chocolate like crazy. She'd been out of the room for most of the Faith/Trevor throw down. She was kinda happy that she had been. She munched on the cookie as Trevor cleaned the cut on his lip in the bathroom. He caught her eyes in the mirror.

"Blood doesn't bother you." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Not after all the blood I've seen. This friend of mine used to keep it in his fridge. Once you see a vamp drinking blood with crumbled up crackers in it, you really get over any blood phobias." Dawn said. When he gave her a confused look, she went on. "That's the other thing I have to tell you. Vampires are real, demons are real, and prophecies are real. Still want to join up?"

"Not like I've got anything better to do." Trevor said.

"Wow. That was easy."

"Haven't you heard, I'm an easy guy. Your little guard dog got me knocked out cold after fifteen minutes."

"That's not - "

They heard pounding on the door. Dawn frowned. Was that Faith? She walked cautiously out of the bathroom. No one else knew where they were except for Vi and Faith. Dawn nodded to Gavin, who cautiously opened the door. He blinked.

"Boris? What are you doing here?"

Tara stepped out onto the grass plain that lay in the mind of Dagonet. He was sharpening his blade as she approached. She liked their afternoon chats and lessons.

"Hi Dag."

"Tara, back so soon?" The tall man smiled. "Have the Powers decided to let me up yet?"

"No, you have much to learn still. We can't have them asking questions when you do wake up."

"Of course. What year is it that we study next?"

"The late 1800's."

"Good. We're nearing the year I need."

"Getting closer." Tara smiled.

A/N: Okay, that's it for this chapter. Not sure when the next one will be up, I have finals this week and then I'm moving back home for the summer. All depends on if I have the internet when I get home.


	7. 7: Through a Mirror

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: You saw what now?

A/N: Oh for the love of all that is holy and good. This chapter took _sooo_ long to write. What had happened was that I lost internet connection as of May 1 (we don't have it at home, and I do at school. . .so kinda screwed on that aspect) Then I had two pure HP fics I had to have done by the second - oops. So, I wrote those the second I was sure my beloved computer wasn't killed (when my sister took the flat-top cart with my PC on it down, some guy was blaring his car radio and the vibrations were so loud that it literally knocked it off the cart. Luckily it was only scratched on the outside.) Then I sorta vegged out for a month. Then I started back at work. So this is the first time I've actually sat down and started writing _anything_. To get back in the SL 'verse, I re-read Protector and the parts of SL that I have with me (for some reason I don't have parts 1& 2 saved anymore - must have been on that wonky disk of mine), played some of the King Arthur Gamecube game, listened to the soundtrack, flipped through the book, and watched the movie a little. I've boned till I can't bone no more.

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7. Through a Mirror

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"Lady, these things you tell me of are most strange and of grave import. I am not sorry I came to your aid."

- **In Camelot's Shadow, Sarah Zettel**

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The slave market was brimming with new Sarmatian slave girls. There were four that drew the eyes of the most reputable buyers. One had hair the color of pitch, with eyes as cold as ice. One had the hair of autumn leaves, with eyes the color of new grass. Another with hair as dark as a new born Chestnut colt, and eyes to match. And the final had hair the color of the sun, eyes as deep and as dark as the sea. They were the beauties of the market place.

Faith felt her head throb as the images seemed to wash over her mind. She rubbed her eyes. The best thing to do was to get off the street, get home, and get an ungodly amount of alcohol in her system as quickly as possible.

"_Isolde. . ."_

"_Faith. . ."_

"One in the same, time after time. . ."

"His betrayal still burns. . . "

"His betrayal in death."

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Boris stared at the girl in utter disbelief. Hadn't she called him in a panic saying they were in danger? Hadn't the girl said that they needed him as well? Gavin's brow furrowed. Dawn and a lanky fellow entered from another room as Gavin spoke.

"Boris? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? First off, I get a call from you -" Boris jerked a finger toward Dawn, "Crying your eyes out that someone's gonna off you lot, and you give me directions to come help you. Then I get there and some curvy blonde named Tara says it's all a false alarm and to come here. Now you tell me what the bloody hell I'm doin' here." Boris shouted.

"I never called you." Dawn said quietly.

"Tara?" Willow said at the same time. "Is that what he said, Dawnie?"  
"Yeah." Dawn whispered, sitting down hard on the sofa.

"Someone better come up with a damn good answer." Trevor said calmly.

"Tara -" Willow's eyes filled with tears. Gavin stood a few inches closer to her, and Willow took an unconscious step towards him.

"Tara was Willow's girlfriend. She died five years ago." Dawn said quietly, her hand on her stomach. "She was shot."

"Well, the bint that I saw was very much alive."

"That's not possible!" Willow cried. "It's gotta be the -"

"It's not the First, Will." Dawn said firmly. "Spike and Buffy squashed it. The hellmouth collapsed -"

"It's the Firs Evil, Dawnie. Not a Saturday Morning cartoon villain." Willow sighed.

"I know. But think about it. If it were the First - why would it send him _straight_ to us?"

The room went eerily quiet. The four men exchanged confused looks. Gwen rolled her eyes. At least they were bonding, even if it was in confusion. Trevor's gaze narrowed on her.

"You know what they're talking about." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Well, yeah. My father worked for the Council. The First Evil tried to destroy the world about three years ago." Gwen said, her eyes on Dawn and Willow. "It started by destroying Potential Slayers."

"Potential whats?" Boris demanded.

"One girl in all the world, chosen to slay demons and vampires." Gwen's eyes slid over to Trevor. "You met one of them last night."

"Faith."

"Demons and vampires?" Boris chortled derisively. "You're joking."

"No, she's not." Dawn said quietly. "My sister, Buffy is the oldest surviving vampire slayer. Faith is the second."

"And Vi?" Garrett asked.

"She's one of the first wave of new slayers." Dawn sighed when she was met with blank stares.. "There's three that survived the battle that were from the 'first group'. Kennedy, Vi, and Rona were three of the first seven that showed up in Sunnydale. That would make them all tied for third place."

Vi gazed nervously around the apartment. Everything was in place. This should go off without a hitch, and everything would be golden. She nodded to herself, counting off the things she was supposed to remember. Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the knock on the door.

"Showtime." She whispered.

_Southern_ _Roman Empire, 460_

Viviane idly twirled the short dagger between her fingers. Claudius should have reached her with news by now. The four Sarmatian women had been sold together three years ago, and in the slums of the Empire they had made names for themselves. They weren't known by their names, but as ferocious gladiators - the Raven, the Fox, the Lion, and the Wolf.

Today was the day of reckoning. Viviane had won her freedom not a week ago in her final battle, Elaine the week before. Today Isolde and Morgana would win their freedom. Her pale green eyes flicked toward the doorway.

The four women had been in Rome for all of ten days before they had been sold to a wealthy Roman official who was stationed in Egypt. Certain practices - such as the gladiatorial matches - were still allowed in the southern reaches of the Empire. The four Sarmatians had quickly risen to favor among the spectators. They were small women who each battled men, women, and beasts twice their size and had never fallen.

The Raven was known for her cunning strategies and the way she called out to her opponents, teasing and taunting them into fighting in anger rather than with a calm mind. The Fox was known for her ability to slip past anything, often backing her opponents into corners when they thought they had had the upper hand. The Wolf and the Lion were eerily similar in their tactics. Each seemed to stalk their opponents, the Wolf always seeming to go for her opponents strengths and turning them into weaknesses, while the Lion worked on the missteps.

And now that they could almost taste their freedom, they had begun to plan. They would wind their way back to Sarmatia, to where they had been taken from to see if anything remained of their camp. Then they would head towards Briton. Viviane had nothing to return to, her family had been wiped out five winters ago from illness. Isolde and Elaine sought men, and Morgana had often said it felt as if something was pulling her north. Viviane was a simple woman, she had never wanted more than a family of her own and peace in a world where it seemed impossible to obtain. She had had a lover, a fellow gladiator for a short time until she had to face him in battle. Claudius imagined himself to be her lover, but she did not love him. So she too would go North, looking for a life of her own. There was a knock on the door.

"It's time." She murmured, clutching the dagger in her hand as she unbarred the door.

Boris's eyes welled over with tears as he chuckled boisterously. He wiped at his eyes as Gwen, Willow and Dawn all glowered at him. Trevor merely cocked an eyebrow, Gavin frowned and Garrett looked confused.

"What's so funny?" Gwen asked in a low tone.

"You lot expect me to believe that a lot of little girls -"

"And Spike." Dawn added.

"And this Spike bloke, sauntered down into the mouth of hell and ganged up on the first evil?" Boris demanded.

"Yes."

"That's some of the funniest shit I've heard in years."

"We lost a lot of people we cared about that day. It's not meant to be funny." Willow said roughly. "Anya, Spike, and dozens of innocent girls died that day all so the world could go on it's merry tra-la-la-ing way."

"I'm sorry, but that bit about us being re-incarnated mystical and mythical Knights of the Round Table was _easier _for you to believe?" Garrett asked in his most sarcastic and pain-in-the-ass voice. "Funny, I would have thought it would be the other way around."

"Well, you only say that because you tried to boink a slayer." Dawn rolled her eyes. "And you did see me stake a vamp a few weeks back."

"Which is not good for the baby, I might add." Garrett fought the urge to stick his tongue out at her.

"Whose the father?" Trevor's eyes snapped between each of the three women.

"This one ain't heard yet?" Boris asked.

"We kinda haven't gotten around to that yet." Dawn said blushing.

"Yeah, there was a tangent we kinda got off on." Willow smiled weakly.

"Dagonet was his name -"

"Sir Dagonet, the fool. My namesake beat him senseless one time." Trevor said knowingly.

"No. Your _namesake_ a.k.a. your _past life_ never beat him senseless." Dawn paused for a beat. "Not that I know of anyway."

"Might explain the scar he had." Gwen said quietly.

"No, that was when Kay got killed." Gavin said knowingly. He chewed on his thumbnail, not noticing the stares he was receiving from the rest of the group. He looked up. "What'd I say?"

"Kay?" Dawn said. "You remember one of the other knights?"

"Well, yeah, it happened right after I arrived. There was an attack, a Woad got the upper hand on Dag and he fell over. Kay came in to cover him and when he blocked an axe swipe one of the other bastards got a lucky shot off that went through his armor. I ran forward and got the bastard who shot him. It was my first kill."

"How old were you?" Willow asked.

"Ten, eleven maybe."

They all stared at him in stunned silence. Willow's eyes started to fill and she wrapped a protective arm around him. Dawn felt her jaw drop slightly. She shook her head.

"Since when do you remember the other knights?" She demanded.

"Since now, I guess."

"Well, Gavin was the first one you found after you spoke to the direct liaison to the Powers." Gwen pointed out.

"And he has known about his past life longer than the rest of us by a few weeks." Garrett added. "Well, Gwen and I anyway."

"What are the Powers?" Trevor asked.

"The Powers that Be pretty much try to organize the warriors of the light, and end up screwing up everyone's lives."

"Dawnie. . "

"It's true, Wills. They told us Angel was working for the bad guys, Cordelia and Wesley both _died _because of them, and we don't even _know_ what happened to Spike, Angel, and that guy Gunn who worked with them. That girl Fred died too, because the Powers told Giles to stay out of it because they were the new bad guys." Dawn said in a wounded voice. "They manipulated Buffy years ago, and they screwed me over when they decided to haul my butt back in time. Then they sent Whistler and that mean bitch Europa to condemn me for picking the _wrong_ knight."

"Tara . . . Dawnie, what if they sent Tara?"

"Why would they send her?"

"Because someone called Boris pretending to be you - what if someone wants the knights to stay in the dark?" Willow asked. "And someone up there, maybe even Cordy herself, sent Tara to intervene."

"Crap-a-doodle-doo."

_Morgana was led down a dark corridor. Isolde's victory still rang in her ears, but Morgana would not find herself free this night. She had not even been given the chance to fight. She'd been stolen from the gladiator's quarters by two obscenely large soldiers and dragged in here. To _him. _She could smell him - his power, his gifts, even his hatred._

The blindfold was removed from her eyes as she was shoved roughly into the center of the room. Morgana blinked once, her eyes focusing on the figure draped in rich crimson robes, gold flicking in low lamplight.

"Lady Raven, thank you for coming to meet with me." The rich voice spoke in her native Sarmatian tongue. Morgana cocked an eyebrow. Let him go on thinking she did not know his language.

"Lord Death, I was given no other option but to obey your summons."

"Lord Death? Is that what they are calling me now?" He laughed. "I am a lord, but not over Death. Over Life." Lord Mordred - the taker of life, bastard son of a then conscripted soldier and foolish noblewoman.

He had followed in his father's footsteps, becoming an officer in the Roman army. He was notorious for his viciousness on the battlefield as well as in the fort he commanded. Not much passed his ever-watching eye. Which was one of the reasons Morgana and her sisters had never even dared to risk an escape. He and his lapdogs would have found them inside an hour. Some whispered that the Lord of Death had sold his soul for immortality. Standing across from him now, Morgana believed every whispered word.

"What is it you would have of me," Morgana paused, "My lord?"

"There are whispers in the darkest reaches of this city that even I hear, lady. Many citizens have heard that you are a witch?" Mordred leaned forward. "Is it true?"

"I am a Sarmatian." She said quietly.

"And?"

"All Sarmatian women learn something of healing drafts and soothing salves." Morgana paused, "And of course, we all learn how to wield a weapon."

"I can see where that would lead some who know very little about your people to believe that you were a witch."

"I am not." Morgana squared her shoulders. "Are you in need of a witch, my lord?"

"No."

"Then why summon me."

"Lady Raven, there is one among you they call the Lion." Mordred smiled. "I would like to possess such a creature as she."

"The Lion has already earned her freedom. She is no one's possession."

"Yes, a fact I have learned too late." Mordred's eyes narrowed angrily at the figure she now saw in the shadows. "But it is rumored that you know of her whereabouts, and could possibly persuade her to become mine. I would grant you your freedom, Lady Raven."

"I would never betray my sister's freedom for my own. Sarmatians do not work that way."

Viviane pulled the bolt back and was shocked to see only Elaine and Isolde in the doorway. She quickly ushered them in, making sure no one noticed the two women. She waited half a moment after barring the door before speaking.

"Where is Morgana and Claudius?"

"Claudius arranged for her to be taken just before her match. He's been working for the Lord of Death." Elaine spat.

"The Lord of Death's been heard to say Morgana has a witch's look about her." Isolde continued. "He ordered her match to be cancelled. They had to anyway, the bastard took her by force."

"But they allowed you to fight?"

"Aye." Isolde sighed. "Did Claudius know of our plans? Did he know that only Morgana knows where to find the Sarmatian camp?"

"I never - damn, he must have heard us that night." Viviane muttered. A thought struck her then. "What happened to him?"

"The coward ran off when he saw Isolde coming at him with her sword." Elaine sighed. "We won't be safe here, not if the Lord of Death thinks we're consorting with witches."

"And Morgana?"

"We'll think of something. We swore we would not leave a sister behind."

"So what exactly was your plan?" Trevor asked, leaning forward.

"What?"

"Your master plan after you found us. What were you supposed to do with us?"

"What do you mean _supposed to do_?" Dawn asked.

"You said the Powers bitched you out for falling for the wrong knight. You're carrying the _wrong _child then, aren't you? So then you can't really go through with the mission they wanted you to have."

"You'd think that, but they still want me to go through with it." Dawn sighed. "The 'master plan' was to gather the knights and move to the Wall."

"The wall?" Boris asked.

"Hadrian's wall. We've got a house already bought for the six of us just south of the wall." Gavin said, pointing to the three women and Garrett. "There's enough room for the four other knights."

"That is if you want to join us. You don't have to."

"It would probably be safer for you if did." Gwen said. "Then you would know if someone was trying to trap you."

"How we gonna support ourselves?" Trevor asked.

"You'd all become employees of the Council of Watchers and in a sense, be paid for assisting me. You'd be trained to watchers or assistant researchers, Giles would send us information and assignments to work on. You be putting in field training, but other than that, you'd only have light work around the house." Dawn said.

"You're gonna pay us for house work and playing with sharp objects." Trevor said flatly.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh, and helping avert a few minor apocalypses."

After two more hours of getting phone numbers, giving out the moving date and arranging transport then another two hours of furniture shopping and arranging to hire moving vans for the days in question, Dawn found herself wanting nothing more than a good nights sleep, even though it was only three thirty. Her room was dark and the blinds were drawn when she opened the door. Something was off. She slipped her hand into her purse and grabbed the throwing dagger she had tucked in her bag before she left. Then with her left hand, she casually flipped on the lights. The dagger was out of her hand the instant she saw the first figure pop up.

"Surprise!" Five voices started to say. The fifth one was cut off as the dagger whizzed by her face.

"What the hell was that for?" Kennedy screeched.

It was then that Dawn noticed the baby shower decorations strewn around the room. Vi, Rona Lewis, Kit Holburn, and Carlos Trejo stood there with their mouths hanging open, Kennedy Van Haverbrooke just glared at her.

"I know you're not overly fond of me, but I didn't think you'd resorted to hurling daggers at me, Summers."

A/N2: Gladiatorial practices ended around 470 A.D., and slavery around 500 A.D. It might have not been practiced in the city of Rome, but I'm sure it happened somewhere in the empire. As for the Sarmatians ('Amazons') being gladiators - well, you can blame Marion Zimmer Bradley's book _Warrior Woman _for that. I read it while I was thinking about Elaine, Isolde and Morgana.

In other news, my prayers go out to all of those people who were caught in the London bombings. My thoughts were on all of you who are in London, as well as my best friend who was and still is in London, studying abroad. She was in class, less than a block away from one of the bombings.


	8. 8: Dust In The Wind

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: Moving Day

A/N: Okay, so it's been a month between this chapter and the last. Well, there was the whole back to school nonsense, and working like a psycho for the past three months for money that was spent faster than it was earned. Sad, but true.

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8. Dust in the Wind

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"The Goddess keep you safe, make her forget you. Make her forget you. Leave you here. My bonny, my Mordred, my boy from the sea."

- **The Wicked Day, Mary Stewart**

Dawn stared in shock at the blue and pink decorations that were strewn around her apartment. Images of happy little babies slipping out of their nappies and storks bringing various bundled babies on balloons and streamers made her giggle. Then there was the image of a pissed off Kennedy shaking the butt of her dagger at Dawn, which made her burst out in a fit of laughter.

"You're so damn lucky you're pregnant, otherwise I'd forget you're the sister of a slayer and kick your butt." Kennedy said grumpily, tossing the dagger on the counter.

"Well, since I _am _ the sister of a slayer, you'd think you all would have known not to sneak up on me." Dawn retorted, setting her bag on the chair by the door. "Plus, I've got all these crazy maternal instincts now, and people popping up from behind my furniture has almost never equaled anything good."

"Speaking of those kick-ass maternal instincts, we're so not accepting that e-mail as sufficient announcement." Kit said, crossing her arms.

Dawn had felt a little guilty about that e-mail. Both of them had been alerted by the Council when she'd gone missing, but Dawn had been so busy grieving and coming to terms with the fact that she was pregnant that all she could do was send them an e-mail saying she was safe and expecting. Seeing as she considered Kit and Carlos as her closest friends, an e-mail really was a shitty way to tell them.

"There was grief and guilt going on at the time. I wasn't in my right mind," Dawn said, trying to keep from smiling.

"You have a -" Kennedy started to say snippily, but thought it over at Rona's nudge.

"Very funny," Dawn said, her eyes landing hungrily on the sheet cake that read _Baby Summers_. "Is that chocolate?"

_The Fox, the Lion, and the Wolf had all but disappeared from the face of the earth. The Raven paced in thought in the cell that the Lord of Death had thrown her into. As if the fool could get her to give him the location of the Lion. The thick iron lock sprung open, and Morgana immediately reached for her weapon. A tall, lithe female strode into the room. She smiled predatorily at the younger woman. Her hair was graying around the edges, and her gaze calculating._

"So you are the famed Lady Raven." She spoke as she circled Morgana. "Funny, I'd have thought you to be taller."

"Being taller does not ensure a long life, my lady_." Morgana backed herself away from the woman, her heart thundering in her chest._

"She is not so impressive, my lady." The figure Morgana had seen in the chambers days earlier emerged now. Her auburn hair hung in a fashion that was decades -if not centuries - older than the lady she spoke to now. "Lady Raven's stature bears little reflection of her Amazonian heritage."

"Is she truly of the Amazons, mother?" A younger voice asked, close at her mother's heals. "Grandmother, is it true?"

"You dare bring Jessamina here?" The older woman cried, scooping the girl into her arms. "You are a greater fool than I had thought, Europa."

"Cease your prattling, Leticia." Europa snapped, her hands fisted at her sides. "I wanted my daughter to see this visionary._"_

"Visionary? Then the rumors are true, she possesses some power." Leticia said breathlessly.

She was a beautiful child, and it was no surprise to see her parents features in the small form. Morgana looked away. It was almost too heartbreaking to see the child's fate roll out behind her eyes. She would be chosen, and she would fall.

"I possess the healing gifts that all Sarmatian _women learn, I am no visionary. Get the child from my sight. If you wish to threaten me, do not use children to do so."_

Europa had no concept of what she was asking Morgana to foresee. But she sent her daughter away just the same. Morgana blinked, as Europa's past and future slid comfortably in her daughter's place. She allowed herself to feel pity for the woman for a moment.

"Well, herald of the future, what do you see?"

Europa tugged hard on Cordelia's shoulder. The Highest Beings had summoned them, all because of her meddling. Europa was nervous. She didn't like being in Their presences without fair warning.

"Quit yanking my arm out of my socket, psycho." Cordelia snapped. "What's your damage?"

"We have been summoned by the Highest Beings all because of your stupid interference in the Key's path." Europa felt bile rise in her throat.

"What?"

"You decided to play Matchmaker and returned the lost knight to the mortal realm. The knight you so carelessly released back into the world was meant to stay dead. He was destined to face mortal peril and evil, in order to restore balance to the world. His death was meant to distract the Dark knight from the future queen and his child was to take his place and bring peace. Instead, your insistence on hurling this knight back into the world could prevent the Key from going on and conceiving the _right_ child."

"Yeah, because I'm the one who was there from the beginning. You can't predict love. Whose to say this kid, the kid Dawn's carrying now isn't the Chosen one to unite all mankind?"

"The Powers, you twit. Your arrogance and mortality disgust me." Europa spat.

"Yeah, well yours pisses me off. Where do you get off acting like you give a shit about Dawnie and the baby? I act like a person with feelings and I'm disgusting? Well, look in the mirror super bitch. Your superior-than-thou shit is wearing thin. I might not have the universe's greatest track record with people, but it's gotta be better than yours. You've probably never even been in Dawn's place. She's got not only her life, but the life of her child and her friends on the line with your prophecy. The kid deserves her happy-ever-afters when she can get them." Cordelia shouted, yanking her arm back.

Cordelia marched down the corridor. If all the powers were as dumb as this chick, Cordelia was gonna have to knock em all down a peg or two.

Tara had left moments ago, and his mind still reeled with the innovations his world had made in the last sixteen hundred years. Dagonet stared up at the night sky. He was a simple soldier, and he would soon be in a world that no longer did anything simply.

"Nothing is as it ought to be," he said to himself, closing his eyes as he imagined Dawn's smiling face. She was surrounded by a gaggle of women and a man. He clenched his fist. But the man moved to one of the other women, and Dagonet's fist loosened. Dawn's hand strayed idly over her belly. His heart filled with joy. His child slept there, safe in the tightest of embraces a mother could offer her child. Dawn's head rose slightly. She stared directly at him, her smile faltering for a second. Her lips formed one single word.

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Dagonet?

His eyes snapped open in confusion. Had he truly seen her? Had she seen him? Dagonet did not have much time to ponder these questions, for he was no longer alone.

Dawn's eyes glazed over, and for the second time in two months, she passed out.

_Rome_

Lanyon Fairview shifted the backpack on his shoulders. Rome hadn't originally been on his lists of places to hit, but that dream had unnerved him. It had lit a fire under him, one that he wasn't particularly happy to have lit. He hailed a cab and in very bad Italian told the cabbie where he needed to go. The cabbie, a young woman of about twenty who looked oddly familiar, drove like all the devils in hell were chasing her. Lanyon struggled to keep his lunch down as she handled the sharp curves. She chattered on in fast and abrupt Italian, pausing only to yell at the drivers that cut her off.

He was more than thrilled when she came to an abrupt halt in front of his hotel, even though his head had smacked painfully into the divider. Lanyon gave her the fare and thanked her. She smiled, a small secretive little smile that sent shivers down his spine. He knew that smile, had seen it dozens of times before, but couldn't place it.

"Ciao!" she called out, her tires squealing as she speed out into traffic. She had shouted something else that sounded nothing like Italian, but Lanyon couldn't hear it.

He turned to make his way into the lobby of the hotel and found himself face to face with a petite blond woman. He felt his mouth go dry. She stared at him for a second, blinking a few times. She was in her twenties, a few inches shorter than he, and had on the tiniest tank top he'd ever seen. Dark dress slacks and matching boots finished off the ensemble. He couldn't see her eyes, as they were hidden behind a pair of designer sunglasses.

"Excuse me," she said politely stepping around him, her accent giving her away as American.

"Sorry about that," Lanyon fought the urge to blush, something he hadn't done since primary school. He hefted his bag onto his shoulder and started forward. Then he read the sign on the building. "Damn, miss?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, but is this the Eliseo hotel?"

"No. You're miles in the wrong direction." The woman smiled, pulling off her glasses. "This is a private residence."

Lanyon cursed under his breath. That silly cabbie had been babbling in Italian and he had nodded along every few seconds, but he'd just assumed she knew where she was going.

"But I'm headed that way, I could give you a lift," the blonde said, nodding towards her car.

"You'd offer a ride to a complete stranger? I could be a rapist or an axe-murderer."

"I think I could handle you," A smile played on her lips. "I'm Buffy Summers."

"Lanyon Fairview. And I'm not a rapist or axe-murderer. I'm a journalist."

"I'm blissfully unemployed," Buffy replied.

"How's that working for you?"

"Well, pretty good. I go out, dance, and pick up strange and stranded men."

"Sounds like fun."

"Nah, it's kind of a drag."

In the vast corridors of the Powers That Be, a young woman dressed in a cab drivers clothing shrugged off her disguise. She slipped beside Merlin who looked more and more annoyed.

"Has Europa come yet?"

"No, she's behind the newest Liaison," Merlin nodded slightly to the brunette visionary who stood just inside the doorway looking annoyed. "You cut it close."

"I figured I had plenty of time, what with Europa being too distracted by her charge to notice me skipping down there."

"Good plan."

"I try."

"Did he recognize you?"

"A bit, but he couldn't place me. He got the dream and followed it," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips.

"And?"

"I meddled like I like to do. I purposely took him to the wrong place."

"Which was in turn the right place?"

"Yes."

"Be careful, Morgana."

"I always am, Father."

Dawn felt shaky for the rest of the night, and well into the morning. Carlos looked like he wanted to do something, but didn't know what. When morning came and what with the cake having been slaughtered by midnight chocolate cravings, her friends dutifully helped her pack up the last of her things into the cardboard moving boxes. Then the slayer girls hefted all of the boxes down to the moving van.

It was quarter to ten when the knights arrived. Dawn was surprised to see all four of them there. Her friends were practically drooling over them. Well, Carlos and Kennedy were drooling over Gwen.

"So, are you ready to go?" Gavin asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah. I think that's the last box."

"Are Vi's things packed up?" Garrett asked from the doorway.

Vi's eyes widened in uncertainty. Dawn blinked, Gwen frowned, and the other guys looked confused. Vi cleared her throat.

"Why would my stuff need to be packed up?"

"You're coming with us, right?"  
"No."

"Vi's taking over my floor and apartment while she's here for her six month slayer studies program."

"Oh. I just thought she'd be coming with us, because you'd brought her with us -"

"I was just security," Vi blurted, her cheeks burning bright red.

"Right." Garrett coughed. "Wait, is Willow coming then or not?"

The room went quiet. Dawn would have killed him then and there if it weren't for the small fact that she'd be short a knight if she did.

"Willow is, Vi isn't," _Please don't bring up her exes, _ Dawn thought to herself. "She's going to set up protection circles and wards."

"So, we should get going if we want to get to our first stop tonight before nightfall," Gwen piped up.

The knights left her with her friends to say one last good-bye. Tears streaked down her cheeks, the reality of it all sinking in. Hormones were hell. She climbed into the car with Gavin and Gwen, waving frantically at her friends. They waved back, watching until the car was gone from their line of sight. Kennedy whirled on Vi.

"Girl, you better start spilling your guts."

"What?"

"Well, one - start with why Willow's really going, and two - what's up between you and the Frat boy," Kennedy grinned.

"I'll never understand chicks," Carlos groaned as they trooped back upstairs.

A/N: that's all for chapter 8.


	9. 9: Chivalry is Never Dead

Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: Honey, I'm home!

A/N: Ok, so there has been a lot of demanding that I get on with it already. Sorry, but RL has been insane for the past few months between school, work, and all that goes along with it. Didn't help that every time I went to work on this part I'd get blocked or couldn't find the same motivation to work on it. Sometimes things get stuck and can't be rushed, sometimes new fics have to be started because otherwise the creative juices would go dry. If I can't fit it into one fic, I have to compensate and put it into another fic. That said, enjoy this part.

_9. Chivalry Is Never Dead_

"_Here was heroism at its last and loftiest possibility, its utmost summit; this was challenging death in the open field unarmed, with all the odds against the challenger, no reward set upon the contest, and no admiring world in silks and cloth of gold to gaze and applaud; and yet the king's bearing was as serenely brave as it had always been in those cheaper contest where knight meets knight in equal fight and clothed in protecting steel. He was great, now; sublimely great."_

_- **A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, **Mark Twain_

_**Rome**  
_

Lanyon felt his stomach tighten painfully as the woman whipped around the corner. She avoided a near collision with another car - but just barely. Honestly, he was going to be killed by a crazy woman driver. The blonde merely smiled at him.

"So, what brings you to Rome?" she yelled over the noise of the traffic.

"Business."

"What kind?"

"I'm a photojournalist. It's a travel - bloody hell!" Lanyon shouted at a particularly tight left turn.

"My exit," she shrugged.

"God have mercy on my soul," Lanyon muttered.

"He sent you to me, didn't he?"

"That's what I'm worried about."

_**Road to Hadrian's Wall**_

Dawn shifted uncomfortably in the van. They'd been driving for the better half of the day, well into the night, and would hopefully reach their new home in the morning. Garrett and Gwen were playing twenty questions.

Her hand rested protectively on her stomach, watching as the clouds drifted in and out of her view. She tried to keep her eyes open, but found herself drifting off to sleep anyway.

**_Rome, 462_**

_Morgana gritted her teeth as she was hurled before the sainted Pope and slaver of her people. A year and a half extended service to the Lord Death had not brightened the young Sarmatian warrior woman's demeanor, and the constant contact with his doomed child weakened her resolve, battered at her defenses. She prayed to her gods and goddesses that her sisters were well hidden in the city's few sanctuaries._

"_You choose not to speak, Lady Raven?" Europa taunted from the edge of her cage._

"_Not to Roman concubines. He'll never wed you, demon," Morgana's laugh was low and hoarse from disuse._

"_How _little _you know, seer. He has already sworn to wed me, for I carry his son," Europa crowed._

_Morgana's head seemed to constrict, her chest tightened as she set her eyes on Europa's stomach. Images of a blond demon flashed through her mind, the child cowering before it with an infant hidden behind her. And the father watched, while the demon's throat was trapped in his hands._

"_Do you think it is your children he wishes to claim, demon? You are not what he has hunted for these last two years, Europa! Why do you think he has kept me prisoner? To draw her out! He wants her, Europa, he has _never _wanted you _or _your children."_

_Europa strode forward, her hand striking out through the bars of Morgana's cage to grab the warrior by the collar. Her mouth was a thin line of anger. _

"_Do you wish for me to kill you, Seer? To put you out of your misery?"_

"_He wants the Lady Lion, Europa. He does not want you!" Morgana spat._

"_You want me to kill you so he will hate me, but I will never disobey my lord, Sarmatian." Europa released her._

"_No, you will be a lapdog to him, and stand idly by as he kills your children," Morgana hissed._

"_My children will be his greatest triumph, and I _will _be his wife."_

"_You will watch them die, Europa."_

_The demon glared at her, but twirled her skirts as she strode out of the dungeon. Morgana fought back the tears as the image of the two children dying burned itself into her mind. Europa would not learn his true darkness until it was too late._

"_I swear by the gods, I will not let him kill you little ones," Morgana sobbed._

**_Rome_**

Lanyon braced himself, sure he was going to go flying through the windshield of the car. Buffy glared at him when he crossed himself. Shoving her glasses up on her forehead, she turned to him.

"I'm a good driver, you know."

"Good for _what_? Nearly killing people?"

"Hey, my driving has never killed anyone," she grinned.

"Just given them minor heart attacks?"

"I've only been in one accident, and it was the other guy's fault."

"I'm sure it was," Lanyon said shakily, rolling his eyes.

Buffy grinned at him. There was something so familiar and comfortable about him. He grinned back at her. Buffy blinked, trying to place that look. She'd seen it somewhere before, but couldn't be sure. Before she could smile back, she felt a cool breeze settle over her skin. A shadow slid over the driver's side, and Lanyon felt the skin on the back of his neck tingle. A charming looking man in what looked like an Armani suit smiled at Buffy.

"Mi bella, I worried when there was no word from you," The man smiled, and Lanyon felt like hitting him. Why, he didn't know but he knew it couldn't hurt. Buffy smiled weakly at him. "Who is this?"

"Oh, um, Lanyon this is Mort. . . my boyfriend. Mort, this is Lanyon. I pulled a good Samaritan and gave him a lift," Buffy said tightly. "What are you doing here, Mort?"

"Business lunch, an associate had some news for me."

"I should really get going," Lanyon said cautiously as the other man continued to glare at him. "Thank you again for the lift."

"No prob, I was headed out and you happened to be going my way," Buffy smiled.

"Well, still you could have left me on that corner," Lanyon grinned, but Mort seemed to anger by the second.

"Buffy's heart is often _too_ giving," Mort answered. "Marco will take your car home, mi bella. Come, I've a surprise waiting."

"I - sure. It was nice meeting you, Lanyon."

"You as well, Buffy."

Mort led her away from the puzzled man. He had seen them both somewhere before, but could place neither face. It was odd. Before Lanyon could think on it much longer, his cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He flipped it open.

"Yes?"

_**Rome, 463**_

_Morgana was drawn into the main hall of the Lord Mordred to be shown off to his peers. This fine specimen of Sarmatian breeding. And sitting near his hallowed mother, was his demon concubine and his offspring. A fat little baby boy who was content with drooling on his mother's dress, and a young girl of ten who was looking more and more distressed with each passing day._

_Jessamina, the daughter of Death would not last long in this world. Europa may choose not to believe her, but Morgana knew the truth. She had seen, had heard with her own eyes and ears the true plan of her captor. Three years he'd been planning it. His intended would not take in his bastard children._

_Morgana felt someone bump into her from behind, heard the apologies before she saw it's face. A face that was hauntingly familiar._

"_Are you mad?" Morgana hissed, stepping back into the shadows._

"_I thought you a captive and here you are, celebrating with your Romans," Isolde hissed._

"_Mordred has dragged me here, Isolde. He is making contact with the Masters."_

_The dark haired woman froze, her spin stiffening at the thought. To hear that a tyrant such as Mordred was contacting Master Vampires was a disconcerting thought._

"_To what end would he seek out those abominations?"_

"_The end he has been chasing the past three years, sister. He wants Elaine, and is willing to sacrifice the next slayer and her infant brother to whomever takes up the cause."_

"_Slayers are myths, Morgana. How could he even find one?"_

"_He bred one, in the belly of Europa. He's contacted the Master, Kakistos and Lothos," Morgana replied._

"_He would kill his own children for _Elaine_?"_

"_Three birds with one shot. Europa will blame the vampire, Elaine will be recovered, and his new intended will be overjoyed that her child will get his fortune."_

"_What would you have us do, Morgana?"_

"_Run. Leave the city, head for Sarmatia."  
"You've just told me that he is going to kill those children, and you tell me we are to run?"_

"_Do you ever wish to see Tristan again? Does Elaine not wish to see her Lancelot? And Viviane, does she not wish to find her family? I would rather see you three safely on your way than remain here to save _his _offspring."_

"_And you?"_

"_The girl will die eventually, she is chosen. The boy, I might be able to save him -"_

"_Morgana, you are the only one who knows -" Isolde snapped. Morgana grabbed her hand and forced something into it._

"_No longer do I hold you back. Fight your way to Briton, find your love and live your lives. Your freedom is long overdue. Do not look back for me, Isolde. Lead them home."_

_Morgana turned away from her sister in arms and strode back into the crowd that had threatened her world and her people for so long. And her eyes rested on the innocents who would die for their father's greed. She did not have to watch Isolde leave to know that her sister would follow orders and get them to safety._

_One man stood out in Mordred's royal gathering. He wore simple garb, not the ornate monstrosities the others wore. A simple man in a complicated setting. Pelagius. A man worth speaking with._

"_I hear your have seen the great Artorius, have spoken with the man keeping things in line in the North," Morgana said quietly._

"_Pardon me?" the man asked, stirred from his thoughts._

"_The commander in Briton, it's said you know of him?" Morgana pushed on, her eyes locked firmly on Mordred._

"_Yes, I do know Arthur. He is like a son to me. And you are?"_

"_A slave to Lord Mordred, formerly a gladiator."_

"_A slave? You do not seem a slave, my lady."_

"_The bonds are not visible, but I assure you they are there."_

"_No one deserves to be a slave," Pelagius said quietly._

"_I fear you are in the world, Pelagius. The Roman world exists only on the backs of those they have enslaved. They rob generations of their women, their sons and drag them away to their outposts to serve your Pope," Morgana laughed._

"_All men should be free to live as they choose," he frowned, watching her._

"_Yes, all _men_. We women are to be left to the wayside, still slaves to men's will."_

"_I know your face, it is familiar to me. Who are you?"_

"_Morgana, Lady Raven - do treat us with your backwards beliefs of the Amazons," Europa called, distracting Morgana from answering._

_Morgana's jaw clenched as the gathered Romans laughed. Her fist clenched at her sides as a calming hand came to rest on her shoulder._

"_My Lady Europa, I am sure our customs are as backwards to the Lady Raven as her noble Sarmatian ways are to us," Pelagius called out. "Our children are reared on our understanding and acceptance of the cultures that make up our world."_

"_I am not an Amazon, I am Sarmatian, Lady." Morgana glanced over at the priest. Why would he risk the demon's anger to protect her._

"_Sarmatian, Amazon. Both are only good for one thing: Sport," Europa laughed, but her eyes burned with anger at being reprimanded. But she turned away from the two and resumed her conversation with the respected guests._

"_You remind me very much of a woman I knew long ago," Pelagius said softly, jarring Morgana from her thought._

"_Really? Who was she?"_

"_A Sarmatian woman who followed her husband to Briton. He died, and she returned home to her people heavy with child. I could swear you look like her, but it has been many years, and my age is catching up to me." He smiled at her, and Morgana saw some things in him she wished she had not. The Truth and the future._

_**Road to Hadrian's Wall, 2005**_

Dawn slept heavily in the back of the van, her head resting on Gavin's shoulder. It had taken her a long time to find sleep because her mind kept straying to the last time she traveled this road.

_He stood across from her by a clear blue lake, his beige tunic freshly cleaned and his weapons hidden from sight. She blinked. Dag was dead. He could not be standing here waiting for her. But he was. Her Dag._

"_My Dawn," Dag smiled, and Dawn felt her heart break. _

_Tears coursed down her cheeks as she raced towards him. Her arms circled his shoulders and back, her fingers brushing the nape of his neck. He felt warm, strong, and real to her._

"_You grow more beautiful every time we meet, my Lady Dawn," Dag whispered against her ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin. "As you grow heavier with our child, your beauty grows."_

"_Yeah, distance makes the heart grow fonder," Dawn laughed tearfully, tucking her head against his chest just to hear his heart beat._

"_I have told you, you are beautiful. Do you question my eyes?"_

"_But I'm not beautiful, Dag. I'm just - I'm me."_

_Dag pulled back to look at her. She wasn't beautiful, she was broken and without him, she wasn't sure she could be fixed. He brushed away the tear on her cheek, kissed her forehead gently before speaking. She didn't think she could break any more than she already had._

"_You are a beauty that is not often granted to men such as me. You are beautiful because of who you are, Dawn. My love, the mother of my child, the only woman I have loved." Dag kissed her gently, like he had their first night together. Dawn felt the tears course down her cheeks as he held her close._

"_I'm so scared that this isn't real, more scared because I know it's not," she cried, her fists clenched in his tear-stained tunic._

"_But it is, Dawn. I have never left you, my love."_

"_But you did."_

Dawn jerked upright, her head smacking Gavin's chin. It stung, and her heart ached. She'd hoped it would get better, but each of these new dreams made her heart break all over again. She couldn't keep thinking about him, but it was a hard thing to do when everything she touched and knew had to do with him.

"Why did we stop?"

"Ow," Gavin muttered. "We're here, we're home."

"Funny, but I always thought it was bigger," Garrett called from the front seat.

"Oh, that's funny," Dawn said dryly. "I haven't _ever_ heard that lame joke before."

_**Rome, 463**_

_Morgana heard the screams from the upper chambers long before they began and long after they stopped. She cringed over in the corner of her cage, trying to bloke out the children's death cries. She barely heard the cell door open. _

_Europa stood before her, her expensive dress covered in the blood of her dead children. Her face a blank mask of grief and rage. Morgana feared her reasoning._

"_He gave them to Lothos for _her_. Just as you said he would."_

"_Jessamina - she is dead?" Morgana asked softly._

"_And Felix, my precious baby. Slaughtered so you would tell him where the Lion hides! So Lothos would send his minions to seek her out!" Europa screamed, her body quivering in pure rage._

"_I am sorry - "_

"_You will not tell him where that _bitch _is hiding. I will not give him the satisfaction of questioning you."_

_Morgana closed her eyes, expecting the death blow she deserved for failing those innocent children. Instead, a leather pouch hit the ground before her with a dull thud. _

"_Safe passage throughout the Empire. Take it, and hide your Lion where he will never find her."_

"_Why?" Morgana demanded._

"_It is only fair that I deny him the same happiness he has denied me."_


	10. 10: Innocence

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights  
Summary: New house, new neighbors, training, lessons and doctor visits.  
A/N: I went a little old-school Buffy knowledge with the last part. Lothos is the name of the vampire Master Buffy had to face in the movie. He killed slayers with every passing generation, and as far as I know neither Kakistos (vamp who killed Faith's watcher in s3) or the Master ever brought down a slayer.

_10. Innocence_

_From beside the queen Gawain  
to the king did then incline:  
'I implore with prayer plain  
that this match should now be min.'  
- **Sir Gawain and the Green Knight**_

_**Higher Planes of Existence**_

Morgana watched as the couple parted. She hated that he must hold the truth from her, as she was sure he hated it too. But it was the only way to keep the plans of the powers safe. There were so many causalities of this mission, so many innocents lost - so many more made unknowing victims in the war. The girl would suffer more, be put through unnecessary hardships if only to fool the betrayer.

Morgana could not show more interest in the champion yet, Europa and her abomination must believe that she was in the dark to their plans and schemes. Merlin found her gazing in the tapestries that held most of their warriors, their wins and their losses. He had grave news to tell her, just as he did before.

"What is it? What has you troubled?" Morgana asked quietly, before the older power could have time to speak.

"Gaheris is dead."

Morgana's head snapped up. _This _was not what she had been expecting to hear. But then Merlin could be counted on for the most disturbing news.

"Dead? You assured me that the other knights were being kept safe!" Morgana hissed, pulling Merlin aside. "How could one of the hidden knights be _dead_?"

"It seems he was part of a champion assignment in Los Angeles."

"Los Angeles? And you considered this placement wise, will all that we have worked towards for the past fifteen hundred years, Merlin? We were already one knight short!" Morgana cried. She ran a hand through her dark hair, trying to absorb this new information. A thought struck her. "He was not meant to be Los Angeles. He, like all the other knights was _meant_ to be reborn in the place he died, in Briton, Merlin! Hundreds of years of planning now hang in the balance and you bring me this news?" Morgana cried. She needed a moment to collect herself before continuing. "How did Gaheris wind up involved in a champion assignment?"

"Well, ya see, that'd be kinda my fault," a shorter dark haired man said from beside Merlin.

"I should have known," Morgana said ruefully.

_**Hadrian's Wall, 2005**_

**_Summers Cottage_**

It took them nearly two weeks of work to get everything unpacked, cleaned and organized. The knights took a vote and gave Dawn the bigger room, the one that had a small room attached to it. The whole house could use a fresh coat of paint, and they had decided to do the bedrooms first, before any of the new furniture arrived.

Of course, the boys had serious qualms about Dawn painting, and more than once when she tried to help with the painting she found her paintbrush being yanked or knocked out of her hand. It was sweet and insulting all at once. So she made the meals, a sweet and revenge-ish task that she thoroughly enjoyed. The boys didn't, so Gwen was reassigned from painting to cooking - which only made the food worse. Gavin decided to switch with Gwen and take over the cooking.

"We have to begin training," Dawn sighed one afternoon as she and Gavin finished making sandwiches.

"Exactly how are we gonna go about training?" Gavin grinned. Every time Dawn brought this up, she asked the same thing, expected the same answer.

"I can show you basic broadsword and dagger training, but I suck at hand to hand. You remember what happened when we got ambushed by Marius's men. I jumped on the guard's back! No offense, but can you see Garrett or Boris trying to pull that move on - whatever it is we're gonna have to fight?"

"Well, Willow can help train us when she arrives this week, right?" Gavin said calmly, trying to play it cool while he checked on her ETA. Dawn rolled her eyes, but Gavin continued. "And Trev's got all that military history crammed up in his head, so he can help us out. Not to mention that Boris is a coach, which sorta doubles as a drill sergeant."

"Yeah, well knowing where to aim a ball and the results and weaponry used in the War of 1812 aren't exactly gonna help when there are vampires or demons tracking us down and ruining our Tuesday night plans."

"And the Willow option?" Gavin grinned over at her as he placed a few more sandwiches on the platter.

"Well, she's good at directing people where to go, but for actual training? Not a good idea. We'd be better off having her stick with spells," Dawn sighed. "And she's arriving tomorrow, so you have the rest of today to try and get all the paint chips out of your hair and clothes. Although, do I really have to remind you _again_ that she's into girls?" Dawn asked, sneaking a pickle slice off the tray.

"You're just mad that you don't get to pick away at old paint all day long and patch the plaster. And you have said that she did date blokes at one point in her life," Gavin pointed out. He poked his head into the hallway and yelled, "Oi! Lunch's ready!"

"Yeah, Oz, but that doesn't mean she can switch back and forth -" Dawn started to say as she snuck another pickle slice.

"Unless she really likes the guy."

"You're hopeless."

"Are you two talking about the redhead, _again_?" Garrett groaned as he walked into the kitchen.

"We're talking about Willow. Of course, that might not be the _redhead_ you're referring to, the Chaste," Dawn grinned wickedly.

"Stop calling me that, crazy pregnant woman," Garrett sneered.

"Speakin' of bein' pregnant, when's your appointment, Dawn?" Boris asked as he rinsed his hands off in the sink.

"In two days. I'm gonna need the car, guys," Dawn sighed, snagging the ham and Swiss sandwich Gavin put on his own plate. When he glared at her, she simply batted her eyes. "Pass the ketchup?"

"Ketchup on a ham sandwich?" Garrett's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Ham and cheese and ketchup please," Dawn said in a sing-song voice.

"That's - gah," Gavin shook his head. "Must be the pregnancy cravings."

"Actually, this is how I normally eat a ham sandwich," Dawn frowned. "You guys think it's weird? How is it weird?"

_**London**_

Faith tossed in her sleep. She dreamt of something that she hadn't dreamt of in years.

_She stood at the edge of a burning village, her dark hair matted against her skin and a burning torch in her hand. She had been too late, the Saxon scum had already defiled the sacred place she had found sanctuary in after Tristan's betrayal. _

_Bodies of young Sarmatian women littered the ground, their hair shorn and their dresses bloodied by vile half-men. Was this destruction what she fought her way to freedom for? Was this painful sight what she had been willing to leave her sister behind?_

_Two figures stood beside her, their eyes dark with anger and grief. Isolde saw something move within a collapsed tent. Clenching her sword tightly in her hand, she raced forward. A man lay bloodied and bruised beneath a fallen horse. Isolde yelled back to her companions to come help free the man. _

"_Wray, what has happened?" Isolde demanded as she worked to free the weapons master. _

"_Too late, I -" the dark haired man coughed roughly, blood trickling down his lips._

"The big moments, kid. Gotta look for the unexpected big moments_," Isolde glanced over her shoulder to a duplicate of the same man she held dying in her arms._

"_Who are you?" She demanded, glaring at him._

"You know who am, Faith. Why I've come."

"_I'm -"_

"Isolde, yeah, I should know. I'm bleedin' all over you there. But you're just dreamin', kid. Remembering really."

"_What -"_

"You gotta wake up, Faith. Look for the signs, offer help, cuz you can still be somebody. Still have a say on how the endgame's gonna be played. She'll ask, and you'll offer."

"_And to what ends would you have me go to?"_

"Hell, kid, you're really digging this past life lingo, ain't ya? You're gonna get what you lost back. Your lover."

"_Isolde, a rider comes!" Elaine cried, jarring her from her conversation._

"_Prepare yourselves," Isolde turned back to the oddly dressed man, but he was gone. "Lord Death might have -"_

A hand clamped down on Faith's shoulder, jarring her awake. She blinked a few times before her eyes could focus. She groaned.

"This better be good, red."

"It is."

_**Summers Cottage**_

Dawn tossed and turned in her sleep as well. For the past two weeks, each night brought her heartbreaking realistic dreams of Dag that left her worse than the day before. It was quarter to six when she shoved back the suffocating sheets, her hand groping for the bedside light. The sight that greeted her when she looked down at her mattress had her screaming.

Blood caked the sheets where her body had been moments before. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she scrambled from the bed. No, no, this couldn't be happening! Please, god, no! Gavin and Gwen were the first ones to burst through her door, weapons drawn for non-existent enemies.

"Dawn, what is it? What's wrong?" Boris demanded, his eyes landing on the bloodied sheets. "God, no."

"What's wrong?" Trevor asked from the doorway, cricket bat clenched in his hand.

"I can't - what did I do wrong? Why would the powers take, oh god, I can't lose him again!" Dawn sobbed as Boris pulled her into his arms.

"Did she lose the baby?" Gwen asked quietly, tears in her eyes.

"Dawn, your foot's bleeding, love," Boris said quietly. "The babe is safe. Trev, go grab us a bandage! It's toe-blood, not baby-blood, Dawn. Gavin, get rid of those sheets and Gwen fetch us a washcloth."

"Oh god, Bors! I almost lost him again," Dawn sobbed.

"Shh, shh, there, there. Nothings wrong, you and the wee little one are safe and sound."

"What's going on?" Garrett asked from the hall.

"Nothin', go get Dawn a glass a warm milk, pup," Boris glared.

"She all right?"

"Yeah."

_**Outskirts of Rome, 463**_

_Morgana was met outside of the Lord of Death's villa by none other than Pelagius. She was shocked to see the priest there. She did not like the truths he spoke and represented, but as of right now, she had no one else._

"_Come child, I've found you sanctuary for the night."_

"_Why?"_

"_You are in need, and I am a servant of the Lord. I have pledged my life to help those less fortunate then I. Can you think of one person less fortunate than yourself?" Pelagius asked, handing her a worn brown cloak._

"_I do not believe in your God," Morgana said quietly, following him._

"_That does not change your plight, Morgana."_

"_But it should." Morgana shook her head, trying to make sense of everything. "You _should not _side with me, priest! He will come after you even stronger, more than when you merely sing Artorius' praise. He will have reason to turn Germanius against you -"_

"_And until I am dead, I will still do what my God and my heart tell me is right."_

"_Mordred is not a sane man, Pelagius! He offered up his children's lives to find - "_

"_The Lady Lion. He has often crowed of her beauty and how he would possess her. He is obsessed -"_

"_And dangerous! He stood by as Lothos drained his children of their blood!" Pelagius paled at this._

"_Jessamina and Felix were offered up voluntarily to that monster?"_

"_Yes," Morgana sobbed. "I should not mourn these children of my enemy, but they were innocent and did not deserve that death."_

"_No, they did not." Pelagius crossed himself, praying for the spirits of the innocent children who were slaughtered by their own father. "The Lady Lion is out of the city?"_

"_Yes, sent away months ago, right after he reached out to the Masters."_

"_Then we must work on getting you to safety. There is a Sarmatian woman in the city who can give you safe passage to Sarmatia. She has just been released from her servitude and is trying to go east to her homeland."_

"_Why do you help me, Pelagius?" Morgana demanded. _

"_There is no time, child. Europa may have released you, but Mordred will still seek you out," Pelagius pushed a bag of provisions into her arms. "You must flee as quickly as you can, child. May God keep you safe along you journey."_

_Morgana stared at him, tears in her eyes as she saw what fate held in store for him. She kissed his cheek softly._

"_May your God keep you safe as well, Pelagius. But remember that Germanius and Mordred will not stop until they have total control. They will stop at nothing, Pelagius," Morgana hissed._

"_Come, we must get you to Ismene."_

_**Summers Cottage**_

Dawn lay in bed with her foot elevated and Boris sleeping in the chair beside her bed. Out of all of them, even Gavin who'd been there since the very beginning, Boris felt the most responsible for her. It had to do with Dag, and Bors failure to keep Dawn safe from the battle at Badon Hill. She smiled over at him, knowing he was still awake and watching out for her.

"I can't do it, Boris."

"Can't fall asleep, love?" He bent forward on his elbows.

"Well, that too. I can't train you," Dawn sighed.

"Damn right you can't, you're nearly what - five months along? Dangerous for the little nipper if her mum's whirlin' a sword about."

"Even if I wasn't pregnant, I couldn't train you against - whatever the hell we're gonna be up against," she rubbed at her eyes. "Which means I'm gonna have to call in the big guns."

"A slayer?" Boris asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm just not sure if Giles will let her come."

"Get some sleep, Dawn. We'll get this all sorted out in the morning. Besides, you're going to see Doctor Kingston tomorrow, ain't ya?"

"Yeah." She rolled over on her side. "Boris?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks, for earlier."

"Just doin' my job, Dawnie. Livin' up to my promise."

When Dawn woke up the next morning, Boris had already gone. She pulled on a loose sweater and her fat jeans and made her way down to the kitchen. She was shocked to see Trevor at the stove making breakfast. She slid into the closest chair.

"You're cooking."

"Yeah," Trevor said quietly.

"You never cook."

"It's been two weeks, short amount of time to strap a 'never' on, don'tcha think?" Trevor gave her a small smile.

"Either I really scared the crap outta everybody, or you've been body-snatched."

"Gavin's still sleeping, Garrett can't be trusted near a stove, Gwen's gone to pick up Willow from the train station, and Boris went to fill the car and rotate the tires." Trevor set a plate of eggs in front of her before turning to pour her a glass of milk.

"So I did scare the crap outta everybody?" Dawn sighed.

"Basically."

"Are they edible?"

"Would you rather eat Garrett's first attempt?" Trevor nodded towards the garbage bin.

"I'll stick with yours," She said around a mouthful of eggs.

"Your appointment's in two hours. And little one?" He said, setting the glass in front of her.

"Hmm?"

"Don't walk barefoot around the paint chips again?"

"I learned my scary ass lesson last night, Trev."

"Boris's gonna drive you to your appointment and pick up some more groceries. Make a list if you need anything."

After Dawn finished her breakfast, she glared at the phone for about fifteen minutes. Then she called Giles.

_**Road to the Summers Cottage**_

"But Dawn's okay? She didn't lose the baby?"

"She cut her toe, bled on the sheets and freaked out," Gwen told Willow for the fifth time.

"But she's okay?"

"Yes, and even if she wasn't, she's going to the doctor's today."

"But she -"

"Willow, she's fine!"

"Sorry, I - I'm just really nervous about her."

"We all are. Boris and Gavin took turns sitting with her last night after it happened."

"How does someone not notice they cut their foot?" Willow asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Maybe it's the slayer's genes she inherited? The slayers never seem to notice when they get injured."

"Maybe," Willow muttered, pulling out her cell phone.

_**Rome**_

Buffy dropped her cell phone on the bed, not caring where it landed. The Immortal found her curled up in the chair in front of the window, her head resting on her knees and her hands clasped as if in prayer.

"Mi bella, what is wrong?" He asked gently, crouching beside her.

"Dawn," she said roughly.

"The baby, she has miscarried?" The Immortal could barely keep his face controlled.

"What?" Buffy's head snapped up, and a horrified look crossed her features. "God, no! But she had a bad scare."

"I am sure she's being well-cared for," he tried to say soothingly, but Buffy shrugged away from his touch.

"I'm her sister. I should be the one looking after her, not those guys she's living with."

"Mi bella, she has asked you to come to London?"

"Well, I didn't talk to her. Willow called me."

"If it were truly something to fear, would she not have called you herself?"

Buffy didn't respond. She glanced out the window again. The words he spoke were supposed to reassure her, but they just confused her more. Mort's cell phone went off.

"I am afraid I must go, Buffy," he kissed her gently on the top of her head. "I will return, mi bella."

"Yeah."

_**Kingston Clinic,  
North of Hadrian's Wall**_

Dawn sat quietly in the passenger seat and watched the hills roll past. Boris chattered on about something that she really wasn't listening to. It was a half hour trip from the house to the clinic. While she was in the clinic, he would get the groceries. She was halfway up walkway when a little figure blurred past her, hiding behind her legs.

"Um, hello?" Dawn said, peeking over her shoulder.

"Hi!" A little girl chirped at her.

"What are you doing?"

"Hiding," the girl replied.

"Oooh-kay. Who are you hiding from?"

"Doctor Kingy. He's got needles," the girl whispered conspiratorially.

"You don't like needles?" Dawn smiled.

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head.

"Neither do I. What's your name?"

"Elise Morgana Arthuria," The little girl said seriously.

"Wow."

"Lizzie! Lizzie, there you are!" A dark haired woman with a baby in her arms came down the path. "Thank goodness, you found her! What have I told you about running off?"

"I'm not Lizzie! I'm Elise Morgana Arthuria!"

"Sorry, yes, I know," the woman sighed as the baby started to fidget. She turned to Dawn and smiled, "Sorry you have to see this. She's going through a phase. I'm Felicia Hollis, and you've met her majesty Elizabeth."

"Dawn Summers," Dawn smiled back, extending her hand to the older woman.

"Oh, you're the one who moved into the old Jameson cottage."

"We're actually calling it the Summers cottage now, cause I didn't know the Jameson's."

"We're you're closest neighbors."

"Really?"

"Yes. Well, we've got to be on our way, and we certainly don't want to hold you up anymore. Thank you for catching her."

"No, it wasn't a problem."

As the small family made their way to the pathway, Dawn couldn't shake the feeling that she knew the woman from somewhere. She shook her head and made her way towards the door. A Plexiglas window and a heavy looking door separated the doctors examining rooms from the small and cozy looking waiting room.

The nurse had her back to her as she signed in. The waiting room was empty, so rather than sitting, Dawn waited until she could get the nurse's attention. The red-haired nurse took the clipboard and went to the door. When she finally looked up, Dawn felt her jaw slacken. The woman smiled at her.

"Morning, Miss Summers. If you'll follow me?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Good. Dr. Kingston's finishing up with another patient, but he'll be with you in just a few moments," the nurse said, holding open one of the examining room doors for her.

"Sure, yeah."

It took her a few seconds after the nurse had left for it to register that the nurse she'd just spoken to was the spitting image of Bors' Vanora. She didn't get to think on this for too long, because the door to the room opened, and that was shocking enough.

"Hello, Ms. Summers. I'm Dr. Arthur Kingston, and before we do the examination, I'd just like to ask you a few questions."

"Arthur?" Dawn whispered.


	11. 11: Surfacing

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights  
Summary: The crossing of paths...  
A/N: Well, inspiration struck again and for the third time in two weeks I find myself drawn back to my baby of a fic. More like an overabundance of inspiration, as I seem to keep finding little tidbits of information that seem to draw me deeper into the story. Like finding out who played Sir Gaheris in _First Knight_, buying a novelty coin that will inspire an upcoming conversation Morgana will have, reading Greek mythology and plays for class, and above all having a genius professor who knows more obscure tidbits and history than anyone I've met, much less who taught me.

_11. Surfacing_

_Maimed and betrayed and enchanted, his hands become talons and his eyes grow round and gold: he is suddenly an eagle circling above my head and screaming.  
- **The Winter Prince, **_**Elizabeth E. Weir**

_**Rome, 2005**_

This call could not be ignored. Much of this hinged on the actions of his most reliable assassins. The Immortal left Buffy, his eyes fixed tightly ahead of him as he spoke.

"You have found the nuisance, Gianni?" The Immortal snapped, his blazer flipping open as he strode through the halls of his penthouse.

"He has left, my lord. But I have sent the brothers after him. This Fairview man is of little consequence, sir. Cedric and Cyril assure me that he will be handled in due course," the voice crackled over the phone.

"Assurances are not enough!" Mort yelled, his voice reverberating along the marble corridor. "Due course is not enough."

"Yes, of course milord," Gianni backtracked quickly.

"They must finish the job," The Immortal glanced back at his love's room. He must not lose her again. "Get rid of the child."

"Milord?"

"I did not stutter, Gianni. Kill the offspring if you cannot find the nuisance."

"Yes, milord."

The Immortal slapped the cell phone shut. The Powers had left him very few options.

**_Kingston Clinic  
North of Hadrian's Wall  
_**

Dawn felt her throat constrict as she stared up at the smiling doctor. The smiling doctor who was also the King of the Britons. The man she was supposed to be looking for and who in turn, would be delivering her child. If she could have passed out, she would of. Of course, the fact that his name was Kingston should have been a big old flashing light.

"Arthur?" she croaked, trying to make sense of it.

"Yes," he laughed. "I suspect you invisioned a stodgy old country doctor? Good, kindly old Doctor Kingston?"

"Um, well, yeah."

"Sorry to dissapoint." Arthur smiled, and it hit Dawn that she hadn't really seen him smile at all while she'd been back in time. He had a nice smile, and Gwen was gonna be one lucky girl - you know, if she didn't do that whole sleep-with-his-best-friend thing when they found Lancelot. "If you'd gotten pregnant and moved out here a few months earlier, you would have had the stodgy doctor."

"Really?"

"Yes, my father retired a few months back, and I took over the practice." Arthur skimmed over her chart before pulling the stool out and sitting down. "Now, you're roughly 18 weeks along?"

"Yeah."

"Any unusual symptoms, spotting or nausea?"

"No, I - well, I cut my foot the other night on a paint chip - we're repainting the house, and well, I didn't notice it -" Dawn babbled, focusing on her other problem. What the hell could she say to him to make him remember that he was the high king of England? "I kinda freaked out over it."

"The old Jameson place? It hasn't been repainted since - oh, since I was about fifteen."

"You've been there?" Dawn asked, trying to figure out where she lost track of this conversation.

"Not since Mrs. Jameson passed on, but yes. She was childless, and my father used to send me out to do chores for her. She used to bake cookies as payment for everything."

"Wow, you're a regular boy scout in every life you've got, aren't you?" Dawn said without even thinking.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Dawn covered, clearing her throat. "Are there any kinds of tests you need to do?"

"Just a few, and some questions."

"Great."

_**Morgan Lofts,**_

_**Northern England**_

Lanyon Fairview couldn't sleep. Which was completely insane, beacuse he was truly exhausted from his trip, work, and the glare his editor and long time friend Marty had been giving him. It was too hard to try to explain why he'd cut his trip short, and he was just worn out. Ever since he'd met that woman in Rome, he'd been plauged by dreams that made absoultely no sense.

He kept dreaming of a little girl making him a solid oath, followed by brief and horrible flashes of death and war, and finishing with a strange man and woman looking down on him as he died. The last thing he saw before waking up was the woman who'd given him a lift in Rome, weeping beside two swords that had been stuck into the ground. The stranger stood over her, trying to comfort her. He didn't know why, but it was this last image made him the most angry and confused for some reason.

Lanyon sighed, staring down at the assignment sheet Marty had handed him before kicking him out of the office an hour earlier. Why in the world would Marty want to send him just past Hadrian's Wall to check on a man who'd been in a coma for several weeks?

_**Kingston Clinic: Waiting room**_

Boris pushed the door open, hoping to see Dawn waiting for him. He'd already gotten the groceries home, greeted both Gwen and Willow and gone back to fetch Dawn. The waiting room was empty save for the nurse who sat doing some filing. He might as well check on how long she'd be.

"'Scuse me, love, but is Dawn Summers still in with the doc?" Boris asked, trying to catch the woman's attention.

"And you are?" The woman didn't even raise her eyes from the papers she was looking at.

"Her friend, I dropped her off."

"She's still in with the doctor, Mr. -" the nurse raised her face to see him finally, her voice ringing in his ears, pounding out all thought. He could barely hear her whisper. "Bors?"

"Vanora?"

_**Road to Sarmatia, 463**_

_The dark haired woman spoke very little to Morganna as she led the way out of the city. The sun began to rise, and yet the woman still did not speak to her._

"_You are friends with Pelagius?" Morganna pressed, hoping for some conversation with the woman._

"_I am."_

"_He mentioned your name, one that is very peculiar to me. Ismene?"_

"_It is common to my ears, it may still remain foreign to you," Ismene replied, her gaze looking for something._

"_We go the wrong way if you are truly leading me to Sarmatia."_

"_We are not going directly to Sarmatia, for you are the only one who knows where it is, do you not?" Ismene smirked._

"_Where are you taking me?"_

"_The site of the Oracle. She has asked me to lead you there, and I am still in her debt."_

"_The Oracle is gone, if you speak of the one in ancient Delphi."_

_Ismene cocked her head to the side, a smile on her lips. It chilled Morganna a bit, as if Ismene were hearing a joke that she herself could not hear._

"_Now where would a Sarmatian hear of the Oracle at Delphi?" Ismene asked._

"_Where would a Thebeian hear of Sarmatian teachings?" Morganna counterd._

"_Ah, so you recognize my origins?" Ismene smiled, casting her eyes out again." As for Delphi, the emperor might have destroyed it, at the Pope's behest, but it still remains. Less regal, of course, but a Sarmatian such as yourself will be understanding. Come, we've far to go."_

_**Kingston Clinic**_

Dawn answered the questions as best she could. But by the time he'd finished examining and questioning her, she still hadn't figured out how to trigger his past life memories. It was getting to the crunch time when he followed her out to the waiting room. He was about to hand the file over to Jenna when his eyes landed on both his nurse and the man who was staring at her.

"Is everything quite all right out here, Jenna?" Arthur asked, his eyes landing on Boris. "Bors?"

"Arthur?" Jenna frowned up at him, as if she were seeing him for the first time. Then they fell on Dawn, and she shrieked. "Lady Dawn! You died!"

Arthur whirled around to face her, confusion in his eyes as they travelled between her and Boris. Dawn gave a weak laugh.

"Okay, there's a really complicated answer to your question that I could try and give you here, but it would really be better if I told you at the cottage. It might actually make more sense there."

_**Hollis Cottage**_

Felicia Hollis' day wasn't going much better, to be perfectly honest. Lizzie was insisting she was somehow related to the King Arthur, the babies were fussy, and the two older children were nowhere to be found. On top of that, neither was her husband.

"Mummy, can I have a lolly?" Lizzie asked, almost too sweetly.

"How many have you had, Lizzie?" Felicia asked, wiping her hands off on a tea towel.

"Two and a half, but -"

"Then no more. Uncle Alec and your da will be home soon, and dinner's nearly ready," Felicia sighed, knowing the girl was going to sneak it off anyway. "Where's Lucas at, Lizzie?"

"If I tell you, can I have the lolly?"

"Felicia, we're home!" Her husband's voice cut off her reply.

Joel Hollis held the door open for the two younger boys that followed him inside. The older of the two boys looked more like Felicia, with her dark hair and light eyes. The younger boy favored his father.

"I didn't know you'd taken Lucas," Felicia said as Joel came in to kiss her cheek.

"It's Wednesday, love," Joel replied, mussing up Lizzie's hair.

"Is it? How's he doing?" Felicia asked, peeking over her husband's shoulder to watch her son. "Has he woken?"

"No, poor bastard's still as unchanged as the day Lucas found him on our trip," Joel said tiredly. "Dr. Kingston's sure they'll take him off the machines soon."

"Artie can't be that heartless!" she gasped.

"Oh, he's not. Artie can't deny anyone anything, why would he be the one to pull the plug? It's his da who's fighting for it," Joel answered, taking the baby from her so she could focus on the meal.

"Dr. Kingston's retired, surely they've given the case to someone else?"

"It was his patient first, and he's refusing to hand it over."

"Oh, let's do talk about something more cheerful than this, Joel," Felicia sighed. "How's Alec doing?"

"I thought you wanted to talk about something more cheerful," Joel snorted.

"What has he done now?"

"Don't know, but his teacher's sent home a note he's trying to hide from you."

"Thanks a lot, you -" Alec muttered from the kitchen table.

"Watch your tongue, little brother," Felicia cut him off. "Da asked me if I would look after you so you could finish your schooling at home while he was away. You're to treat Joel and I with some respect. Now what have you been doing at school?"

"I mouthed off a bit - but only because the teacher got it wrong!" the teenager protested.

"And I suppose you've gone on to university and gotten your teaching certificate, then? Tell me what they got wrong, professor," Felicia demanded.

"It was about the old Roman fort, I couldn't let him go on and teach it wrong," Alec huffed.

"Really, Alec. It's called obsession."

Felicia left it at that, turning her full attention back to her cooking. She'd just settled the littlest one down in her high chair when she remembered what had happened earlier.

"I met the woman who moved into the old Jameson place today, at Artie's clinic."

"Really? We thought we caught a glimpse of them at the market today, when I dropped the boys off. A big, burly fellow."

"She's quite young, and a few months along. Sweet girl, stopped _your_ daughter from running off earlier."

"Why is Lizzie my daughter whenever she does something wrong?" Joel laughed.

"Because she takes after, Joel."

"What's her name?" Alec asked. Felicia stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, and he rolled his eyes at his sister. "The woman's?"

"Dawn Summers. I think she said she's living up there with friends, but no mention of her husband," Felicia frowned. "I think we should do a dinner, get Artie to come, and her lot, maybe a few other neighbors."

"So you've no other gossip to tell me, wife?" Joel smiled.

"Other than you've got no dessert coming?"

_**Higher Planes**_

Morganna was careful to tread lightly as she made her way to where the guides were kept. Merlin had given her the awful truth, and there was only one whom she could trust to get the dead knight back. The dark haired woman stood with her back to Morganna, and she was taken back fifteen hundred years.

"Ismene, I need your help once more," Morganna said quietly.

"I have none to give, Morganna."


	12. 12: Cold Turkey

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights  
Summary: Accepting what we have been chosen for.  
A/N: The quote that appears in the beginning of this chapters isn't from the book, but the miniseries, mainly because I sent all of my Arthurian books home and forgot that I didn't have a quote. Oops.

_12. Cold Turkey_

_No man or woman can live another's fate.  
- **The Mists of Avalon, **_**Marion Zimmer Bradley  
**

**_Summers Cottage, 2005  
_**

Dawn wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to convince both Arthur and Vanora - Dawn shook her head Vanora's name was Jenna this time around - to come with her and Boris back to the Cottage. They'd spent most of the morning trying to make the adjustment easy for them, but they weren't taking it very well, which was completely understandable. If she thought that telling little girls that they would have to fight demons for the rest of their short lives was hard, telling a man that he was the Once and Future King of England was even worse.

Not to mention the fact that she was impregnated by one of his knights, who had died over fifteen hundred years ago. Telling Jenna that Boris had been her lover had sent a red tinge to her cheeks. Dawn still wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign. Boris was a good-looking guy. But it was Jenna herself who brought up the most interesting point of all.

"So you found Gawain first?" The older woman asked curiously.  
"He actually found me," Dawn smiled over at him.  
"And then the Gwen girl?" Jenna frowned. "And Galahad?"  
"Yeah."  
"So you found them all in the reverse order that they died," she murmured. "With only myself, Arthur and Lancelot out of order."  
"What?" Dawn asked behind closed eyes.

**_Rome  
_**

The Immortal held the golden necklace in his hand, waiting for Europa to return with better information than she had brought to him last time. Long ago it had been a promise, a hint of what was to be _her_ reward. _Her _vengeance against those whom had stinted her growth, and a double-edged gift it had been. It was meant to lure her to him, not throw her into the arms of his greatest enemy.

Europa only stared mutely at the trinket from the shadows. It had been ripped from her own daughter's throat hundreds of years ago, and thrust back into her own hands when he'd banished her from his home the first time for her act of revenge.

"What news of my assassins, Europa?" the Immortal said quietly.  
"They've made their way across the sea. They will be in London by nightfall," Europa says quietly, her thoughts elsewhere.  
"They will ensure the Fox and Wolf do not make it to the Wall?" The Immortal's tone is harsher, as if he is speaking to an errant dog that must be kept in line. Europa cannot help but to bristle at his tone.  
"I thought you had ordered them to kill the knight, _my lord_. What do the Wolf and Fox have to do with your plans?"  
"They are part of _HIS_ prophecy!" Europa doesn't flinch at his angry shriek, which surprises both of them, for his next words are well chosen. "They would stand in my way, pull her away from me."  
"She is already at odds with them over the pregnancy. She will hesitate, as she always does for you. You've caught her in time, this time," It still stung, his preference for the blonde waif. He would never have gone to such lengths to keep Europa at his side.  
"I will have to give her the necklace to ensure that I have." The Immortal tossed the necklace at her. She stared at it blankly. "Renew the spells, Europa. They are old."  
"Yes, _my lord_," but she knows she won't.

**_The Higher Planes  
_**

Ismene, forgotten daughter of Oedipus stared blankly at the infamous daughter of Merlin, whose own lineage had been blurred by mythos and time. Her corner of the High Planes is not often traveled, and no mortals pray to the daughter who took the more traveled path in life.

"What is it you want of me now, child?" Ismene sighed, her hands busily at work. "I'm old, and tired of meddling in the affairs of mortals."

"It is the same thread, Ismene. The latest strand in the eons old tapestry," Morgana sighed.  
"Enough of your flowery speech, what do you want, Morgana?" Ismene let her fingers pause.  
"He had her in Sparta, in Rome, and even in England. He cannot have her again, Ismene. Calm Europa's anger, give her the divine influence you once doled out to an impatient Sarmatian warrior," Morgana pleaded. "Do this one favor, even if it must be done in Pelagius' name.  
"This is your request of me? You bring up a love long lost to me, and beg off favors?"  
"Mordred plays by rules that we can not answer fairly. So, our divine backs must stoop some."

Ismene stared blankly at her. All these years, and yet she had still learned that no one really ever played by the rules.

"I do not have to. She is out of my hands," Ismene smiled sadly. "Fate has finally offered her a fair way out."

**_The road to Delphi, 463  
_**

_Morgana felt the dull ache in her stomach as the day grew into night. Ismene slowed the cart, her eyes peering farther up along the road. The older woman sighed heavily before leading the horses off to a small clearing. Morgana frowned. It would be far easier to find safer passage in the night than at day. Ismene must have sensed her question._

"_It is safer to travel unseen at night, but he will be counting on that," Ismene smiled when Morgana's frown simply deepened. "You are worse than my sister. You've no patience. Besides, if your stomach keeps making all of that racket, we'll easily be prey to Roman soldiers."_

_Ismene reached for a small bag as she instructed Morgana to pull the lantern inside the cloth enclosure. The bag contained a small loaf of fresh bread, a metal jar and flagon. Ismene handed her the flagon as she took out two wooden cups._

"_Mixed wine, bread and honey. It isn't much, but I'm sure it is a far better meal than you would be enjoying in Mordred's Villa?" Ismene asked, the touch of a smirk on her lips.  
"Yes. The Lady Europa did not feel I was deserving of such a fine meal as this," Morgana sighed, wetting her lips with the cool wine. It was far better than the stale bread and murky water Europa had forced down her throat.  
"Ach, that wounded bird!" Ismene grimaced. "She has been tricked at every turn. From Zeus's bed to Mordred's. The Fates are not on that one's side."  
"He took her children," Morgana whispered sadly, her thoughts flicking back to the poor children of Europa.  
"Just as Zeus offered her first offspring up. He claimed then that she -" But Ismene cut herself off._

_Morgana frowned at the older woman's sudden burst of silence. Her eyes clouded over sadly, and Morgana felt as if her stomach were to drop suddenly. Ismene only smiled sadly, her dark eyes clearing._

"_He will lose his life, Mordred will see to it," Morgana whispered quietly. "For aiding my escape, he will die."  
"Pelagius was already doomed to an early grave, child. His beliefs of his God were enough to see to that. This act of kindness will not be the act that brings his end about," Ismene still looked away as she bundled up the remaining food. "They wait for you, to the North and West of here. First we must stop at the Oracle, give you the knowledge you will surely need. We must rush to Delphi."_

**_ICU, Harrington Hospice, 2005  
_**

Lanyon hated hospitals. He always had. Give him a clean, quick death. None of this hanging about. He shuddered as he made his way to the nurse's station. A plump, older woman with graying hair looked up at him tiredly.

"Yes?"  
"Hullo, I'm Lanyon Fairview. I spoke to Head Nurse Joyce this morning about seeing the John Doe who was discovered at the lake."  
"Hang on a moment," she sighed. She dug out a clipboard from beneath the desk and flipped through the papers on it. Rolling her eyes as she found the right one, she handed the clipboard to him. "Sign the release form. You're not to touch any of the equipment. Young Doctor King's orders."  
"Young Doctor King?" Lanyon smiled.  
"Yes, _young_, as in the second doctor King," she huffed.  
"Where is John Doe's room located?" Lanyon asked.  
"Room 107, second door to the left."

**_The road to the Summer Cottage  
The Car Ride  
_**

Willow smoothed her hair. It was nerve-wracking. Poor Dawnie. Her cell phone vibrated and she fumbled for it. Gwen tried to hide her amusement at this. Willow tried to give her best Resolve face look, but she was distracted by the call.

"Whoa, calm down Eva. Start again." Gwen frowned. Willow only gave her the one-second finger as she pulled out her PDA. "Yep, it's up. Transfer the file to me. Thanks, Eva."  
"What was that about?"  
"Once we got Lanyon's info, we set up a program to scan for all of his credit cards, license and passport."  
"Without a federal grant? Isn't that a tad illegal?"  
"It's majorly illegal in most places, but we've got magic and fifteen hundred year old prophecies on our side," but Willow couldn't help blushing from the guilt. "Anyway, it didn't work for the last month or so. Which is weird. Today, Eva got a hit. He's about five miles from the wall. They swiped his id for verification at a Hospice care unit."

Gwen paled. Hospice care? That sounded very ominous. He was a reporter. Lancelot could have been sent on a dangerous mission in a war-torn area. The knights needed to be together - could they already be torn apart?

"Gwen, he's not a patient," Willow said loudly. Gwen blinked. She must have had to say it more than once.  
"He's not?"  
"No, he checked in as a visitor. He's not hurt, as far as I can tell."  
"Thank goodness."  
"But we should get to the Cottage as quickly as possible. Dawn should know and try to make contact. Lancelot may be the key to finding Arthur." Willow couldn't help noticing Gwen's fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

**_Summers Cottage  
_**

Dawn had to sit down. This was too surreal. Trevor put an arm around her. Jenna remembered dying - and even worse, she remembered the order they'd died in. The guys hadn't, but Jenna did. The room was eerily quiet. Dawn couldn't sit, she had to do something - even if it meant just for the sake of pacing. She heard the familiar crunch of tires on gravel, heard the door open.

"Guys, we've got good news - and company?" Willow's voice dropped a bit as Gwen gasped. "I take it you know them, then?"  
"Arthur?" Gwen's voice trembled a bit as she started forward.  
"Gwen -"  
"We found Lancelot, Dawn. He's a couple of miles from here at a hospice," Willow said, making her way towards the younger woman.

"What?" Dawn shot her the same panicked look that Gwen had earlier.  
"He's a visitor, not a patient."  
"Well, I would hope not. I'd like to think we would have recognized Lancelot," Arthur said suddenly, startling both Dawn and Willow.  
"What?" Dawn felt stupid for saying the same thing again, but shrugged it off.  
"I'm a doctor - I'm often at the Hospice," Arthur frowned. "What could be so special that Lancelot would be there?"  
"Lanyon," Dawn's eyes brightened. "He's a journalist, right, Will?"  
"Yeah. He used his id and press pass to get in."  
"But what could be so special about the Hospice?" Jenna shook her head. "Nothing that earth shattering is going on there, is it?"  
"No, just the -" Arthur broke off, his eyes glistening a bit. He stared at Dawn wordlessly.  
"Arthur?" Dawn asked. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
"I've been so bloody thick-headed."

"Huh?"

**_Room 107, ICU  
_**

Lanyon pushed the curtain aside so he could see the poor soul that he was supposed to be writing a story on. He expected to find a frail, withered looking man. Some poor soul with little life left in him. He was wrong.

The man in the bed was huge. The bed seemed wrong, far too small for him. He looked healthy, coma aside and all. He seemed to be breathing on his own. There was a healthy growth of stubble on his face, and his fingers twitched in his sleep. From what information he'd been given, Lanyon knew that this man had literally washed up on shore with no identification. John Doe sure was loved by someone, if the dozen or so crayon-made cards had any say in the matter.

"Looks almost peaceful, doesn't he?" a dark haired woman said from the doorway, startling him. A young, blonde haired boy stood shyly behind her.  
"Yes. Not at all what I was expecting," Lanyon admitted. "Do you know him?"  
"Yes and no. My son Lucas found him," the woman said softly. "We - either his father or myself bring him to visit about once a day. Luke had a funny feeling and wanted to see him again tonight."

"And you are?"  
"Felicia Hol-"  
"I call him Dag!" Lucas blurted, cutting his mother off.  
"Really?" Lanyon smiled as Felicia rolled her eyes in exasperation.  
"He's not a John."  
"No, he doesn't really look like a John, does he?" Lanyon found himself looking at the comatose man. Dag really did suit the big man.  
"But it's not his full name, a nickname," Lucas said seriously. His young, hopeful look caught Lanyon's eyes. "It meant something, his real name. Some lady called him it, and he felt love."

"Some Lady?" Lanyon frowned. "His wife, maybe?"

The boy shook his head. He glanced up at his mother once before he spoke again.

"They weren't like Mum and Da. He was quiet, she was louder. They were nice to me."

Lucas broke away from his mother, taking another card over to the table that was crowded with cards. Felicia had tears in her eyes, and Lanyon offered her a tissue from the box on the table.

"Lucas has a very active imagination. He's been telling these stories since he found Dag," Felicia said softly.  
"You call him that as well?" Lanyon probed. "To humor him?"  
"No. It's funny, but as soon as my husband and I set eyes on him, we've called him the same thing. He looks like a Dag."  
"And the woman Lucas spoke of - she's not real?"

Tears shone brightly in Felicia's eyes as they lingered on Dag in the bed. Her voice shook a bit as spoke.

"If she were, then Doctor Kingston wouldn't be taking him off life-support in a few days."


	13. 13: Helping Hands

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights  
Summary:  
A/N:

_13. Helping Hands_

_Marius, like the High King, believed they should remember the past, and one way of doing that was to keep the language of men who had lived in cities and known the old lost days of peace  
- **Dragon Magic, **_**Andre Norton_  
_**

**_Borderlands, Sarmatia, 463_**

"_We have waited nearly a fortnight, we cannot stay here!" Elaine cried, pacing the rock soil again.  
"Elaine, you tire me with your complaints," Isolde gritted her teeth as she fanned the flames higher.  
"And in truth, it is making me dizzy," Viviane sighed.  
"Do I upset your delicate constitution, Viviane? I am truly sorrowed by this news," Elaine spat, her fingers tightening on her crossbow.  
"We have not heard from Morgana. We do not move further without her, because she is the only one who knows which way they are."  
"We cannot stay blindly in one place, Isolde! Mordred will have sent his troops after her, and in turn us. It is by his order that this village was slain!"  
"We do not know that -" Viviane protested, but Isolde cut her off.  
"_He _is not after Morgana. If he had been, he would not have sent spies to find you," Isolde snapped. "It is the Lioness that he is after, not the Raven. She was merely the means to an end."_

_Elaine stilled. Viviane held her breath, fearing that this would end with words or actions both of them would regret. Instead, Elaine took a seat near the fire, her eyes cast downward. Isolde nodded at this before speaking again._

"_Besides, _He _would not think to find us in the ruins of a village he destroyed in order to find us. His mistake." Or, at least she truly hoped so._

**_Room 107, ICU, 2005  
_**

Lanyon stiffened visibly. Felicia swiped at her eyes with the tissue. They were going to let this obviously healthy person die? Because no one had claimed him?

"Doctor Kingston, the _young_ Dr. Kingston is going to -"  
"Artie? No, he'd never. It's his father. Old Dr. Kingston is still in charge of Dag. He's mostly retired, but this was his last case, and no family has come forward," Felicia's eyes flashed towards her son. "Joel and I - that's my husband - we haven't told Lucas yet."  
"Understandably so," Lanyon nodded. "The boy dotes on him."  
"He does," Felicia's voice tightened as she watched her son.

Lanyon felt at a loss. This man should have a chance at life. No one should slip into death without a fight of some sort. He watched as the boy tipped his head forward a bit. Then the strangest thing happened. The light behind the bed glowed a bit brighter, and Lanyon thought he saw a blonde woman standing beside the boy and the man. Lucas tilted his head towards the woman and nodded. A few minutes later, Lucas raced towards his mother.

"Mum, could we invited Mr. Lanyon to the dinner?" Lucas asked.  
"The dinner?"  
"Lucas, we don't even know if Mr. Lanyon is planning on staying here for the night to worry about tomorrow's dinner." Felicia smiled.  
"He'll be around here, won't you?"  
"Lucas -"  
"Actually, I'll be here for several days. I'd love to interview Dr. Kingston, and yourself, Lucas. You're the hero, right?" Lanyon winked at the boy.  
"Not really. Da pulled him ashore, I just spotted him," Lucas' ears turned red.  
"In that case, I'm throwing a welcome dinner for a few new neighbors. We'd love it if you'd come. Joel's is planning to cook."  
"Is that a good thing?"  
"He's a decent cook."  
"Then I'd love to come to dinner."

Felicia jotted down the address and some quick directions. The nurse came in then, reminding them that visiting hours were officially over. They parted in the small paved parking lot, Felicia and her son climbing into their ancient truck while Lanyon fumbled with the keys to the rental car. Before starting the car, he flipped his cell phone open.

"Marty, it's Lan. Listen, I'm gonna be a few days more. I found a new angle on this coma story you sent me to check out," Lanyon paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean, 'what coma story'?"

**_Delphi, 463  
_**

_The trip seemed far quicker than it should have been. It should have taken the better half of a year to reach the ancient temple, and Morgana was fairly certain that it had been destroyed. Ismene would not speak further of her disheartening news, and the older woman stopped only during the night._

_They had crossed into Greece easily enough, still there was much left unsaid between the women. There had been thunder so loud her teeth chattered in fear. She remembered her mentor's words of meditation and calming, words that had gotten her through the most hellish of nights in Mordred's castle, when he himself would dole out her punishment. Nights she had long tried to bury in her mind. She pressed herself tightly against the side of the cart as it rocked to a halt. Ismene pulled the canvas away._

"_We are here," she said tearfully, her sad eyes resting on the Sarmatian warrior.  
"What troubles you, Ismene?"  
"You, child. You trouble and plague me."_

_Morgana recoiled as if slapped. Ismene merely scowled and threw a heavy cloak in her direction. Morgana trembled as she pulled the cloak over her and slipped out of the cart. Ismene sat on the ruined steps of an ancient temple, her knees pressed tightly to her chest as her shoulders shook in agony. A dark haired woman stood beside her, murmuring words of comfort. Her eyes were startlingly blue, and looked tired, as if the world were too much of a strain on her._

"_You knew his fate, Ismene, before you fetched the girl. Pelagius did not belong to us, not in this time. She is not to blame."  
"No, the boy is - because Pelagius meant something to him, and Mordred could not let him have happiness," Ismene spat. She looked up into the other woman's eyes. "She carries his seed in her belly."  
"I know."  
"She does not."_

_Morgana felt heavy, her steps slipping. The woman turned to face her, a steadying hand reached for her. There was a sad smile on her lips as she pulled Morgana to Ismene and herself. Ismene looked shamed, angry and unbearably sad._

"_And Mordred, that little bastard, does not know either."  
"I am not -"  
"You are, Morgana. You carry the grandson of Uther Pendragon in your belly, son of his own bastard son, Mordred. His other grandchildren, Jessamina and Felix, childred of the Eternal Europa were slain by the dreaded vampire lords. He will have no further offspring, not in this lifetime," the woman sighed.  
"How can you know this?" Morgana whispered.  
"I am the Oracle of Delphi. Roman priests may have destroyed my temple, but there are still worshippers here. I am called Kassandra."_

"_Kassandra of Troy?"_

**_Summers Cottage, 2005  
_**

Dawn frowned at Arthur's confused and obviously torn face, not comprehending anything he was trying to say. Instead of coming up with a reasonable answer, all he managed to do was stare at Gwen and walk into the doorjamb. Willow was looking uncomfortable next to Gavin, and - was Boris making gaga eyes at Jenna? Trevor seemed to be pondering and Garrett - well, he was looking bored.

"Why would Lanyon be at the Hospice, Arthur?" Dawn asked again.  
"The John Doe who washed ashore at the lake -"  
"What lake?" Dawn's breath caught as she rounded on Arthur.

To his credit, Arthur stiffened his spine like he was still the noble high king and commander of the Sarmatian Knights. Which was saying a lot seeing as he was staring down the infamous Summers girls glare that Joyce had started, Buffy had perfected and Dawn had made infamous. The rest of the knights noticed the change, the importance of his words. The Lake. The Ice Battle. Dagonet. All words that were left unspoken, but passed through them silently.

"You know what Lake," Trevor said quietly, coming behind her silently. "There was only ever one."  
"Could it be -" Dawn shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Cordelia told me it wasn't possible - they - the Powers that Suck, told him my soul was lost, and now he's locked up there all alone for eternity."  
"I've only seen him once, myself," Arthur said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder. "My father is still his physician. As far as I could tell, it wasn't him."  
"I know," Dawn said quietly. "I wish it could be. But it was just a move by the Powers to get Lanyon here, so I'll take what I can get."  
"We could get there in about twenty minutes, if Boris drives fast enough," Gavin said quietly. "Get Lanyon and get him home again."  
"Visiting hours will be over by now. We won't be able to get in tonight, but neither will he," Jenna sighed. "We could - "

The phone rang shrilly behind Gwen, making her jump closer to Arthur. Her hand bumped into his, her fingers tangling with his. Her vision blurred, and images flashed through her mind almost as clearly as they had when she met Dawn for the first time. She moved closer to Arthur, a name slipping through her lips.

"Morgana."  
"Mordred," Arthur hissed, his eyes snapping towards the knights.  
"On the phone?" Willow asked.  
"Oh," Gwen flushed a bit and made a fumble for the phone. "Hello? Joel Hollis?"  
"The neighbor lady - it must be her husband," Dawn shook her head. "Felicia and her little girl, Lizzie."  
"Felicia met Dawn this morning at the Kingston Clinic, yes. You're inviting us to a welcome picnic tomorrow. Um, Joel, hold on just one second," Gwen laughed tightly, clamping her hand over the receiver. "Are we up to a welcoming picnic?"  
"Oh bollocks, Artie," Jenna smacked her hand on her leg. "I forgot to tell you that Felicia invited you as well. Your mum called to warn me. Your da's planning on making the usual excuse."  
"Hello, he's waiting on the line," Gwen sighed.  
"Yes, we're all going to the picnic. And remember to thank them for the invitation," Dawn giggled. It felt good to giggle. It had been too long.  
"_All_ of us?" Trevor asked, nodding to the half-open front door.  
"What do you mean?" Dawn frowned, glancing over her shoulder.  
"I think the prick means us," a voice cut in.

Faith stood in the open doorway, Vi was just behind her looking sheepish. A few suitcases were stacked beside them. Faith did not look happy. Dawn only blushed, and Willow looked at her in confusion.

"Yeah. Did I forget to mention that I told Giles I needed someone to help train the knights?" Dawn blurted. "Oh, and tell Joel to expect about nine of us tomorrow, Gwen."

**_Higher Planes  
_**

Ismene watched the Eternal Europa with cautious eyes. It had been Europa's lover that had condemned Pelagius to an early death, but Ismene still had those days in Britain with a young Pelagius that could never have been taken from her. Time had healed the wounds, and fate had given him back to her again in another life. Ismene still harbored mixed feelings toward both Europa and Morgana, but like so many of the Higher Powers, she too had learned to hold back. Europa held the necklace in her hand, and Ismene felt a stab of pain. She remembered those days as if they had just happened. Europa closed her hand around the necklace, trying to hid it from her. She nodded her head to Ismene then fled the room.

"Oh, Europa, do not make the same mistakes for a third time," Ismene closed her eyes.  
"Beloved?" Pelagius' arm encircled her shoulders.  
"Even I can learn to pray, Pelagius."  
"Then let us hope that it hears His ears."

**_London  
_**

Morgana smiled down at the small boy napping beside her. His father watched from beside the doorway, his hands twitching nervously. She glanced up at him. She'd broken the rules of keeping herself detached from the knights. She'd never been able to. Neither had Ismene been able to distance herself, nor Europa. What a group they made.

"Morgan, he'll be waking up soon. I've got to get him to the sitter's before work," Percy said quietly.

Her son was different this time around, as was his father. It was the same soul, only purer - as it was meant to be. He'd gotten Percy's light brown hair, and her dark eyes. She'd been overjoyed at his birth, but duty had called - both times. So his father in this life raised him, and she visited when she could.

"He's gotten so big. He looks so healthy."  
"He is," Percy murmured. "I'm just sorry that he slept through half the visit. For you."  
"He was up half the night teething, Percy. I understand." Morgana glanced at his watch. There was never enough time. She smiled up at him. "I have to go, Percy. Dad's waiting for me -"  
"And Daddy can't be left waiting," Percy said tiredly.  
"He really can't." She kissed his cheek before breezing out the doorway.

Merlin was busy rearranging Lanyon's schedule in order to get him safely to the wall, and Morgana had to stop some Saxon assassins from killing her charges. Again.


	14. 14: Perfect Circle

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary:  
A/N: This ended up being a bit of a Morgana chapter, mainly because I'm trying to stretch out the inevitable. I have so many other things I should be doing, but I'm sick and can't sleep.  
A/N2: Not really sure what happened the first time I uploaded it, but let's try that again.

_14. Perfect Circle_

_He would go far, far into the desert. He could live there. He could live anywhere. He would live, even though he wanted to die.  
- **The Forever King, **_**Molly Cochran & Warren Murphy_  
_**

**_Hollis Home, 2005_**

Felicia struggled with the front door, an exhausted Lucas in her arms. Joel was standing in the hall, starring at the telephone in his hand.

"Joel, sweetheart, is everything all right?"  
"Did you know there's nine of them in that house?" Joel blinked, setting the phone down. He quietly scooped Lucas out of her arms.  
"Nine of whom?"  
"The new neighbors."  
"Nine? Dawn might have mentioned it," Felicia sighed, pushing back a strand of black hair. "Alec still up?"  
"Watching the match," Joel nodded towards the living room.  
"Give Lucas to him, tell him to finish that book report and get to bed. We need to talk."  
"And while I'm ordering your little brother around and playing bad cop, what'll you be doing my dear?"Joel grinned.  
"Getting Lizzie back in bed," Felicia snapped her fingers at the little blonde head popping around the corner. "After that, we've got to talk. Don't think I didn't see you, Lizzie!"  
"Sounds like a load of fun," Joel made his way towards the living room as Felicia dashed around the other corner after Lizzie. "Alec, the fun's over."

**_Delphi, 463_**

_Morgana stared in utter awe at the mystical figure before her. Everyone had heard of the massacre of the Trojans in the the Ten Years War, just as many had heard of the plight of Ismene's family. And here she sat, dumbfounded in their presence. No one had known of Kassandra's fate, and few had cared about Ismene's._

"_The Seer, cursed by Apollo," Morgana breathed. "To see the future, though none will believe it. The war - "  
"Has been done and over with for many, many years," Kassandra nodded, guiding her to the steps beside Ismene's grieving form. "The victors and the victims have long since moved on from this world. Some to be reborn, some to eternal rest. Ismene and I, we have been given neither of these choices. We have been given life, altered. Our gifts honed and at the ready for other such chosen."  
"You speak of - of the true warrior? The one who will conquer evil?" Morgana breathed. Her eyes widened, her fingers clasping the small bulge of her stomach. "Is -"  
"No, Morgana. Your child is not the one I speak of. You are seeking out lost brothers of your broken tribe, you and your sisters?" Kassandra urged, kneeling beside her.  
"Yes. They wait for me now, for I am the only one who knows the way," Morgana nodded dumbly. The power flowed through Kassandra's hand, and she saw the face of a man she had never met, but somehow knew.  
"There is a man to the North, at the wall that you and your kindred seek. He is called Artorius, Arthur. It is vital that you reach this wall. The path that has been given to you is false, a decoy to lead _her _back to Mordred. She must not reach Mordred, or all is lost."  
"What is so vital that you have picked me? Isolde or Viviane could have easily taken my place once you saw that I'd been taken captive by him. Do you not fear that I too have been corrupted by his taint?" Morgana stiffened her spine, eyes narrowed as she watched the Oracle._

_Kassandra rose to her feet, hands behind her back. This was not the stance of a prophetess or handmaiden. This was the stance of a fellow warrior. It had often been said that Kassandra had been kindred of the Sarmatian warriors, that her mother had been of the blood. In truth, Morgana saw much of her fellow warriors in the Oracle._

"_Your blood cannot be tainted by him, even if you bear his child," Kassandra tucked a strand of hair back from Morgana's face. "My child, the things you have seen, will see, and those you cannot yet fathom are before you now. My servant will lead your company to the east, and hide them until the time is right. I fear you cannot go to the north just yet."_

**_Rome, 2005_**

Buffy tossed and turned in her sleep. She hadn't been sleeping well. She hadn't slept well since the day they'd found out Dawn was pregnant. The phone call about Dawn earlier must have triggered some dormant maternal instinct in her, because all Buffy could think about was getting to that stupid wall to watch out for her baby sister.

Buffy fluffed up her pillow as she rolled to her side. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't get that guy's face out of her mind. His smile had been yummy to say the least, and the way his eyes had sparkled - what was she doing? That guy had been gone for a week. She hadn't even spoken to him for that long. And she had a boyfriend, who, while being eerily possessive lately, was still an incredibly wonderful guy. So why was she thinking about Lanyon when she had the Immortal? She was just freaking out about Dawn. Yeah, that was it.

**_Outskirts of London_**

Morgana tugged her hood over her eyes. She couldn't be seen, not if she wanted to avoid the notice of Europa. She wasn't as convinced that the liason would do the right thing for the first time in her long life. Europa was hidden in shadow in the alley across from her. Mordred's hired thugs, and Morgana felt her stomach sink as she watched history repeat itself. It had been Europa that had made the first advances towards the Saxons all those years ago, plotting first to send them to avenge her slain children. Europa had never been able to resist Mordred's charm, and was soon doing his bidding again.

"You're late," Europa hissed at the two blonde men.

"Gianni was informing us of change in plans, and you know how he likes to talk," Cedric smirked.

"That imbecile hasn't stopped blathering on for the last fifteen hundred years, he's not going to stop any time soon," Europa sighed. "What was it that he told you?"

"Doesn't He tell _you_?" Cyril muttered, exchanging a look with his brother.

"I haven't met with him in several weeks. Keeping up this facade as liason gives me little room to move about freely. The Higher Planes keep close track of us."

"He's ordered the death of the knights, and of the woman," Cedric replied.

"And the Key?"

"Only on a need-be condition. Wouldn't want to upset the slayer."

"The child - any of the children, actually - are not to be harmed."

"Children?" Cedric murmured, catching his brother's eyes again. "Who said anything about children?"

"As it stands, the Powers believe that the Key's offspring will have great strength. They thought this of the Key as well, and she has proven to be limited. Her child is the wrong child. She did not fulfill the prophecy. The child will be as powerless as it's mother."

Morgana frowned, risking being seen again as she peered forward into the night. What was Europa up to?

"Fine. Wouldn't doubt your judgement, Europa," Cedric nodded.

"Morgan, what are you doing out here?" Morgana felt herself being yanked back. Morgana gasped. It was the first time in nearly a hundred years that someone had caught her off-guard.

"Percy! You can't be here!" She hissed, pulling him back in the shadows. If Europa even heard a whisper of her name it could jepordize everything.

"This is where you'd rather be? Out on the streets doing - whatever you're doing than being with your son?" Percy's hands shook as he yanked out of her grasp.

"You don't understand. Please, Percy you have to be quiet.. If those men see you - they are very dangerous," Morgana tried desperately to use as little of her power as possible to hide them. If she used too much, Europa might detect her.

"So you can do your father's business'? What about our son, Morgan?"

"Believe me, Percy, I'm doing this so our son can have a better life. Now you really need to shut up!" Morgana felt a surge of power knock him back on his ass. He stared at her in shock, as if he was seeing her for the first time. And truthfully, he was.

**_Delphi, 463_**

_Kassandra stood alone, her eyes focusing on the far north. Mordred had not yet sent his servants to deal with the troublesome Britons and what was left of the Sarmatians. She could not risk the future her visions had shown her. It all rested on a sword's edge, the pieces were already in motion. She remembered the vision that had spelled her brother's doom. Would Hektor and Andomache find peace together in this lifetime? Would Helen and Paris? Would Achilles find his peace? Would she?_

_Morgana looked so much like her father, so very much like him. Had it really been that long ago that she had seen the young wizard? Merlin had grown strong in the North, fighting off legions of Romans. She had not prospered. She'd become stagnant and useless, merely sending warriors to do work she herself was not strong enough to do. How many had suffered, would suffer at her inability to act? Morgana was proof of that, as would be the last of the Samartian warrior women. Mordred's stench was upon her. Morgana had yet to meet her father._

"_You summoned me, priestess?" The dark haired man bowed deeply, pulling Kassandra from her thoughts._

"_Yes. The Lady Raven requires safe passage to meet her companions. Wray, you are the only one who knows the way to the hidden encampment." The former half-demon - now full demon - nodded. Kassandra smiled softly. "You must not interfere with her choice, Wray. She must make them for herself. Your gift will always be minding the balance. It is a useful and frustrating gift."_

_Kassandra tipped her head to one side, as if she were hearing something her could not. She smiled softly at whatever she had heard. He would not find it amusing, but she certainly did. Suddenly her smile was gone, and her eyes turned a frightening black. Wray stumbled back a bit, unsure as to what he could do._

"The fatted calf was too low a bargaining price, and the fates demand a bloodier feast. The line disrupted by blood, refitted and remade. It is not yet their chance, and must be made to fail again."

_Kassandra shook with the effort to keep herself erect. The dark haired balance demon cautiously made his way forward._

"_Milady Oracle? What does it mean?"_

"_Take them through Sarmatia. The child must be born on those ruined lands." Kassandra felt older than she had in centuries. "Assure them that this is what is needed. Mordred will still seek them. You leave tonight."_

"_Aye, Milady."_

_Kassandra looked away from him, away from the sight of the grieving Ismene, away from the broken Morgana, and to the West. Someone was meddling with time, and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was she._

**_The Summers Cottage, 2005_**

After two hours of explaining why Faith and Vi had suddenly appeared on their doorstep, re-explaining the past life situations, and trying to keep her dinner down, Dawn was exhausted. She'd excused herself and had fallen asleep within fifteen minutes. The rest of the group - well, that was an entirely different situation. Boris had opted to drive Jenna home, but Arthur and Gwen were out on the porch, Gavin, Willow and Faith moved the slayer things and Willow's stuff into their rooms. Trevor had made dinner for everyone, and had already gone up to bed. Garrett and Vi got stuck with clean-up duty.

"I understand why Faith is here, but why are you?" Garrett asked as he held the garbage bag open for her. "I thought you were taking over Dawn's apartment and her mini-slayers."

"Me too. But, as luck would have it, I'm no Mrs. Garrett," Vi sighed. The realization of what she'd said hit her a beat later.

"You're no what?" He cried, a smile playing on his lips.

"You know that Eighties tv show, 'The Facts of Life'? Mrs. Edna Garrett was the red-headed house mother at this snobby all-girls school, and she was always giving the girls good advice?" Vi flushed when he only shook his head. "Yeah, well it turns out, that all I have in common with her is the red hair. The slayers walked right over me."

"That still doesn't explain -"

"Strike two," Vi sighed.

"What?"

"I had authority issues in Cleveland, I couldn't cut it as a house mother, and when Giles said he was going to send Faith here at Dawn's request, I figured I couldn't screw it up too much."

Vi turned away from him then, because she knew she wouldn't stop blushing. Guys had been a non-issue since she'd gone to Sunnydale three years ago, and most guys still were a non-issue to her. But there was something about Garrett that got under her skin. He was cute, he was smart, but he was a player and dangerous. But he was so very cute, and she couldn't treat him like Andrew or Carlos, or even Xander. He was - a _boy._

"Well, seeing as _you're _here to whip us into fighting form, then I guess it won't be too hard."

"Excuse me?"

Meanwhile, out on the porch, Arthur and Gwen were lost in their own little world. It was odd, meeting the person you had been destined to marry and rule a nation with. It was rougher knowing that something had come between you once, but that you only had a general idea as to whom had betrayed whom.

"You mentioned Mordred earlier," Gwen started to say, but the words hung there, unanswered.

"You said Morgana."

The two names that had always spelled doom for them in the legends were barely blips in their memories. Gwen wasn't sure where to go from there.

"I don't think she was your sister," she said hesitantly. "Nor do we believe he was your - bastard by her. The legends -"

"But he could be my basta - that Arthur's illegitimate son?" Arthur shook his head. "I can see his face, see him and her standing over me, but they're both a blur."

"I don't see him, in my memories. I don't think I even really see her. I see a necklace, I see a young boy - and then blood," Gwen shivered. "There are little girls there, and I think -"

"They were ours? Two of them, the girls I mean. The boy -" Arthur glared out into the darkness.

"He's hers," Gwen's voice trembled. "The girls had dark hair, and he had blonde hair. She must have given you the son I couldn't."


	15. 15: Wish Fulfillment

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary:  
A/N: So. What took me so long in getting this part out? Well, first there was writers block, then there were exams, and slightly before exams there was the comp crash of '06 that shook my fragile world. All but the first four paragraphs with Dawn and the first paragraph of Morgana were spared. So everything was rewritten. Trevor's flashback scene is lifted from As I Lay Dying in 22 for 22 -( over at Twisting the Hellmouth)

15. Wish Fulfillment 

_Gwenhwyfar shivered suddenly for, although the sky was cloudless, shadows were falling across the water. "What is happening?" she asked._  
_The Morrigan turned toward the water. "Those are the souls of the dead. Rhiannon waits for them on the other side."  
The water was nearly black now. So many souls, Gwenhwyfar thought.  
- **Camelot's Destiny, **_**Cynthia Breeding_  
_**

**_Summers Cottage, 2005_**

Faith's hands were firmly on her hips as she glared up at the older and only slightly taller man in front of her. He wanted to be a bitch about things? Well, she could be the best bitch right back at him. Garrett, Gavin, and Vi all watched eagerly from the table where they were finishing their breakfast.

"Didja not here me, knight boy?" Faith demanded.

"I'm not about to be trained by some slip of a girl for a battle we're not even sure is coming," Trevor said in his quiet-creepy voice.

"Hey!" Vi protested, getting equal glares from both Faith and Trevor. "I'm a slayer, not a slip of a girl, you know."

"Yes, and why don't you hurry and train us, o great slayer," Garrett muttered, yanking her quietly from the kitchen.

"But - " Vi caught the looks Garrett and Gavin were giving her and decided that now might be a good time to make a quick exit. "Okay, on second thought. Training it is."

Trevor and Faith ignored them as they hurried out the door, too caught up in their own angry glares. Images flickered across Trevor's mind as he watched her angry glare more intensely than he wanted to admit, at least to her.

_Giggling children running in a field together, hands clasped as they fell in the high grass. Her smiling face beaming up at him, the feel of her hand on his cheek as she reached up to kiss him. Another image of the two children, not much older carving apples. Rotted bits unusable for the meal being playfully tossed at each other. And the brief moment, where her eyes had held only hurt, only pain in his parting. Her words, her painful words that no matter what they meant to him, he could never do as she had asked._

Faith watched as his face softened, saddened even with a nagging curiosity. As soon as that bit of his shell had seemed to break off, it was back again. Before they could get back to their fight, the kitchen door swung open. The silence was broken by Willow's oh-too-happy voice.

"Morning, guys. Are the boys out training yet?" Willow asked cheerfully.

"I'm just going to join them," Trevor said woodenly, his eyes flicking over to the witch before glaring once more at Faith. He nodded to Willow before he leaving the kitchen.

"Has Dawn been down yet?" Willow asked slowly, her eyes watching the slight twitching of Faith's eye.

"Nah, little D's still sleeping, and Gwen's been chatting up Artie since he came over to make breakfast."

"Arthur came over to make breakfast?" Willow frowned. "I thought Boris was doing breakfast this morning?"

"Ah, big B never came home last night," Faith smirked, her eyes finally brightening after the whole Trevor incident. "I better go wake up D. She wanted to play knight-trainer this morning."

"And I'll go get Arthur to join the boys and see about tracking down Boris."

----

Dawn stretched in her bed, moaning at the little aches and pains that came with expectant motherhood. Her eyes were still closed when she felt the mattress dip with the weight of another occupant.

"I'm too tired to open my eyes and guess who's in my room," Dawn murmured.  
"_Do you have no patience then, My Lady?"_

"Dag?" Dawn cried, sitting up with a start.

"D? Everything five by five?" Faith asked.

The room was empty except for Faith, who stood in the open doorway. Dawn blinked back tears of frustration. She had to stop dreaming about him. It just hurt too much to remember him. The dark haired slayer made her way over to the bed.

"Yeah, just a bad dream," Dawn gave her a small smile. "What - what time is it?"  
"About ten. You were knocked out, so we let ya sleep. Vi's got the younger knights training downstairs, Trevor put up a bitch fit, and Boris - he hasn't come home yet."  
"What?" Dawn cried, pushing off the covers. "What do you mean he hasn't come home yet?"

"D, chill. He's fine. He and Jenna - had some catching up to do. They got to it a helluva lot faster than Gwen and Artie."

"Oh."

**_Higher Planes_**

Morgana looked nervously over at the small fog bank that served as her mirror into the human realm. She could feel Merlin's glare on her back as he entered the small alcove she had chosen for her study. He didn't even need to speak for her to know that he was thoroughly disappointed in her.

"I was left with no option, Father," Morgana said quietly. "I had to protect the safety of the knight and his child."

"You mean your child," Merlin said heavily. "Don't use false words to hide your true ambition."

"False words?" Morgana spun around to face her father, anger no longer hidden from her eyes. "You, king of false words and promises, have the gall to tell me I hide behind them?"

"Morgana, you are still guided by your humanity in a game where there can be no such failings!" Merlin hissed, taking his daughter by the arm. "There are those who know of the knight and child and question your ability to do your duty."

"Are you one of them, father? Is Kassandra, in all her Delphic glory, as questioning as you are?"  
"No. Kassandra has voiced no question to anyone in -," Merlin caught the look in his daughter's eyes. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke," Kassandra has set you to this task? She has spoken to none of the elders in a century."

"That is because the elders have abused her champions for too long. She has cringed and bemoaned our lack of interference in the lives of our champions." In truth, Kassandra had been the one to direct her actions since the beginning. Kassandra had always shown her the way to her destiny.

**_Sarmatian Plains, 464-465_**

_They had kept their fires low, waiting in the underbrush during the day and hunting by night. Isolde brought down the small game, while Elaine had specialized in what vegetation and fowl they could find in this cold season. Viviane normally stayed close to their camp and often did the necessary chores that her fellow warriors did not do. By the time their leader had rejoined them, she was heavy with child. _His _child. Elaine had been the first to be angered at this revelation._

"_You are heavy with his child, live in the finest home in all of the land, are put on display while we stare here in this barren wilderness? You have betrayed us, sister," Elaine spat on her then, and Morgana did not let it rest at that._

"_Oh, yes, dear simpering Elaine. I have played you all cruelly," Morgana snapped. "I was _treated _to the finest things the Lord of Death had to offer, and would have offered to you if I had betrayed your location. I was privy to witness the murder of countless innocents, to _His _angered caresses to my body because I had so betrayed you, Elaine. I would rather have been here with you, or dead than have been in the Lord of Death's care."_

_Elaine's anger and frustration had been silenced that night, but the seeds of doubt had already begun to grow between the powerful sisterhood. The child had been born, a strong, healthy boy of the Sarmatian plains. Morgana, while loving the child she thought she never could come to love, knew that her time with the boy would be short-lived. They had places to go, this band of sisters. Places no mother of Sarmatian blood would ever want her son to travel, for it was often a death sentence._

"_We leave for Briton in the morn," Morgana announced to them one evening.  
"Is that wise?" Viviane asked, her eyes drifting to the newborn in Morgana's lap._

"_We made an oath, Viviane," Morgana said quietly, silencing both Isolde and Elaine's protests. "We have been too long from our brothers in the north, and the plains are too open. The winter will be on us quicker than we will it to be."_

"_And the child?" Viviane had come to love the boy more than the others had, and Morgana knew this would be as hard on the Lady Fox as it would be on her._

"_He will stay on the Sarmatian plains," Morgana murmured._

"_With whom? There is no one here but us, Morgana. The babe will surely die!" Viviane protested, tears shining in her eyes._

"_An ally of ours will take the babe to our people, he has promised the child will be safely delivered. We cannot be delayed any longer."_

"_He will learn our people's ways well here, sister," Isolde said quietly, speaking for the first time._

"_Yes. It is a good choice. He will be free here," Elaine murmured. They knew it was a lie, for they themselves had never been free women on these plains. Yet they found comfort in the lie, so it was easier to believe._

**_Summers Cottage, 2005_**

Vi smacked Garrett's arm to get it back in place as she lead them through the basic steps again. Trevor only made derisive noises at her as she put the other knights through their paces. It stung a bit, and he really didn't have to take his frustration with Faith out on her. She was doing them a favor, after all. Okay, so it was really Dawn doing her a favor by letting her stay in her house, but Vi was being helpful with the training. So why did Trevor have such a big bug up his butt about it now? Garrett wasn't helping her nerves with his constant messing up either.

"Okay, The Chaste, I've shown you six times how to hold your arms properly," Vi sighed, brushing a strand of hair way from her eyes. "Elbows bent slightly, palms out. Like this."

"Right."

"What do we have here, then?" A booming voice said from across the yard, startling Vi even more. Boris just grinned at them, his arm wrapped around Jenna's shoulders as they made their way over to the knights.

"Training, supposedly," Trevor muttered loud enough for Vi to hear.

Her lip quivered as she tried desperately for it not to bother her. But it did, because it echoed of Robin's contempt for her back in Cleveland, and Giles' disappointment in her in London. She wasn't cut out for anything but following orders, and slayers like that just got everybody killed. She should have stayed in London, and never come up here no matter how much she wanted to help Dawn. Maybe she should just go before she messed anything else up.

"Doesn't help that I need coaching through every step," Garrett's voice broke through Vi's niggling doubts, and her head snapped up to look into the eyes of the youngest knight. "Never was any good at drills, and I was lousy at sports in school."

"Ah, we'll whip you into shape in no time, boyo," Boris laughed heartly at him.

"Oh the joys of being whipped by teenaged girls and former football coaches," he laughed right back at the older knight.

"I'm not a teenager," Vi gave him a small smile. She nodded towards Boris, "And he's a former _assistant _coach."

"Yeah," Boris chuckled, giving her a wink.

"Wow, this so does not look like training," Dawn called from the kitchen doorway, a mug in her hand.

"Which means I gotta bust some heads," Faith added, striding across the lawn. "Big B, you better haul ass to get back here in five minutes. Grab A while you're at it."  
"Right away, love," Boris gave her a mock salute before kissing Jenna one last time.

"Damn. You had to get the ball-buster out here, didn't you, Boris?" Garrett groaned.

"Jenna, if you'd like you could come have some breakfast with me and Willow," Dawn smiled brightly at her.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Didn't have much time for eatin' earlier," Jenna grinned, crossing the lawn to the kitchen door.

----

A half an hour later, with all the breakfast plates cleaned up and put away, Jenna found herself at the large kitchen table with Dawn, Willow, and Gwen pouring over old volumes of knight lore. She been conscripted into the impromptu research session and found herself having more fun than she had imagined.

"Arthur and I remembered bits of our past," Gwen said quietly, rising to get the tea pot to refill their mugs.

"The whole remembering spell helps with that," Dawn answered, reaching for a tea bag. Gwen slapped at her hand. The younger woman gave her a dirty look.

"No black tea. Green tea for you and the baby, missy," Willow scolded.

"It's healthier."

"I like black tea better, though," Dawn sighed.

"We got you flavored green tea. Raspberry and pomegranate," Gwen laughed. "Now, as I was saying, we remembered something. Mordred and Morgan Le Fay."

"Crap on a stick, they're real?" Dawn cried, rubbing at her temple.

"Afraid so. We know something happened involving them that ruined things between our old selves. Problem is, we can't figure out what that something is. We're sure it had something to do with a child, but what child or whose child it was - it's still a blur to us."

"So are we thinking it's Morgan's child or - "

"It's the other woman's," Gwen said quietly. "Something happened between us, and there was another woman. She gave him a son, and I gave him two daughters. An heir."

No one spoke for several minutes, not sure what to say to that. The hurt and confusion of it all was clear in Gwen's face. It was rough, knowing that you had loved someone that turned and betrayed you. She shook her head, trying to clear it of all those thoughts. A tight smile crossed her face as she looked at the three other women.

"C'mon, we've got a lot of work to do before we go to that picnic later."

"Crap, I forgot about that in all the excitement," Dawn groaned.

----

"Holding your sword like that is going to break your wrists, the Chaste," Vi groaned, marching back over to the knight. He scowled at the snickering from his fellow knights. "Two hands until you've trained your wrists to hold them properly. It's easier to knock a sword out of a single hand than it is to knock it out of the death grip of two."

"And it gets you killed faster, pup," Trevor chuckled, smiling for the first time all day. Vi had to admit he'd been a lot nicer to her once Faith came out and started barking orders.

"Yeah, the Chaste," Vi said quietly so only Garrett could hear her. There was a small smile on her lips as she spoke again. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to such a valiant knight."

Garrett's eyes widened in shock. He had heard those words spoken before, uttered from the same set of lips before him. His brow furrowed as his grip on the heavy broadsword faltered. Vi took a step back, and he realized then that she had felt that same burst of recognition. The other knights were too busy in their own training to notice the utter stillness of the two.

"Viviane?" Garrett asked quietly. "You are her, aren't you?"

"I - I don't know. I can't be, can I? No one else -"

"Vi, come show Gavin how to hold his sword. He's as bad as the Chaste!' Faith called, breaking the spell between the two. She looked at the youngest slayer and knight, "Vi?"

"Yeah, coming," Vi shouted, her eyes still locked on Garrett's.

This was so not of the good at all.

**_Rome_**

Buffy wasn't sure what it was that made her book the flight, or pack her things in such a haste. That nagging feeling about Dawn hadn't gone away, and she needed to make sure her little sister was okay. Dawn needed her before and Buffy had chosen to act selfishly. She had known it was wrong, but Dawn's faith in the Powers had angered her more than she cared to admit.

"Mi bella, what is going on?" The Immortal asked -no, he demanded to know. Buffy caught the small irritated tone in his voice. He only did that when he was in demand-mode.

"I - I got a call from Giles. Apparently one of the girls did something wrong, and well, they need the full council there to do a tribunal or something," Buffy lied breezily.

The lying part came naturally, she'd been doing it on the Hellmouth for years. What bothered her was her reasoning for lying. She should have been able to say, 'I'm worried about my pregnant little sister. I'm going to check on her.' So why didn't she just say that? Why make up the whole excuse about the council. _Because he would have convinced you that your feeling was nothing to be concerned with, and you would stay here. You want to go to Britain and you won't if he says you're being silly._

"Oh. I had hoped we could take in more of the city this evening," The Immortal said tightly.

"Sorry, my flight leaves in an hour."

"How long will this take?"

"A few days at least, maybe a week The Council just loves to overanalyze everything to death. I'll be back sooner than you think. Honest."

**_Room 107, ICU_**

Lanyon wasn't sure what it was bout this man that intrigued him so much. The man wasn't even really a story to be covered. No one knew him, no one knew his story. He was just some poor bastard who was going to die. And yet, there was something about him that bothered Lanyon to no end.

The feeling that he knew this man, had at some point in his life, _known_ this complete stranger bothered him. He shouldn't be so bothered by this man.

"Can I help you, young man?" A gray-haired man spoke from the doorway, startling Lanyon out of thoughts. The man strode forward, leaning on his cane as he made his way into the room. "This patient has only had a handful of visitors, and you are not one of the regulars."

"No, I'm not, sir. My name's Lanyon Fairview. My editor sent me here to do a story on John Doe."

"Story? How much of a story can a vegetable tell you, boy?" the man scoffed. "He hasn't woken since before they pulled him out of the lake. He's barely living on his own, he's being fed by tubes, his waste is taken out by other tubes, and - "

"He's breathing without tubes. That seems to mean something, doesn't it?"

"Very little in the endgame, my boy. Now, I suggest you clear out before I call security."

"Security? For what, sitting at his bedside?" Lanyon cried in disbelief.

"For bothering my patient, young man," the old man's fist tightened on the cane as the realization sunk in.

"You're Old Doctor King. You're the one who wants to pull the plug on Dag," Lanyon breathed in deeply. "You're the one who wants to kill him."

"I do not want to kill anyone. I am merely letting the poor man rest."

"He doesn't want to rest! He wants to live, dammit!" Lanyon shouted just as two large security guards came to stand in the doorway.

"Young man, unless you are a mind reader, you have no clue as to what this poor man wants. Now I suggest you take your leave of my facilities immediately."

**_The Hollis Home_**

Dawn had a funny feeling about this massive picnic. Something was bound to go wrong, something was bound to slip out and the poor Hollis family would realize that they were living next to complete freaks. Dawn giggled again. She was like the queen of the freaks. Her fingers shook as she pressed the doorbell. She could hear running and laughing behind the door that seemed to ease her butterflies. Little Lizzie Hollis opened the door and smiled brightly up at Dawn.

"Mummy! The other guests are here!" Lizzie shouted, running back into the house, leaving Dawn and the rest of them at the front door.

"Leave it to Lizzie to leave the guests right where they stand," Jenna laughed, stepping through the doorway. "That child has no manners."

"Like you ever did?" Boris called, taking Dawn's hand as they followed her through the house.

"Haha, so very funny."

"Okay, you two are so creeping me out," Dawn muttered. _And making me completely jealous_

"Sorry, love."

The trip through the house wasn't long, and soon they found themselves in the back garden. The dark haired Felicia was leaning over a man with a bag of frozen peas pressed to his face. A tall, lanky youth with dark hair held a baby boy in his arms, as Lizzie pulled on another little boy's arm. The last person was a stocky man with light brown hair, who held a little girl in his arms. Dawn frowned for a second, taking in their faces. There was something familiar about them.

"Lizzie, did you leave them at the front door again?" Felicia scolded, turning to see her guests standing in front of her. "Sorry 'bout Lizzie. Her manners haven't sunk in yet, I'm afraid."

Dawn, however was making no sense of Felicia's words because the other man had turned to face them. Dawn took a shaky breath. He might have a black eye, be clean-shaven, and dressed in modern clothes, but Dawn would still know him anywhere. The man frowned as well, and Dawn was pretty sure he was recognizing her as well.

"Lancelot?"


	16. 16: Believing is Seeing

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary: Reunited, in the physical sense…  
A/N: Can you believe this series started two years ago? Holy crap. Who knew what it would become? We're getting down to the last three chapters…Will he wake up? Will the baby be a boy or a girl? Will Faith and Trevor stop pulling a Hermione and Ron? Who knows…oh, wait, I'm supposed to know that….g

_16. Believing Is Seeing_

_Chastity, probity, honesty, kindness, cleanliness, willingness, honor, strength, wisdom, trust, courage, faith.  
Virtue dies. But some oaths bind forever.  
- **Killer in the Reign, **_**Rosemary Edghill and India Edghill_  
_**

**_Outside Room 107, Harrington Hospice, 2005_**

Doctor Arthur Kingston, Sr. paced nervously as the call went through his ICU ward. No one was to have direct contact with the condemned soul. No one. It was bad enough he let the boy and his prattling mother in to see the knight, but the other knights - his son included - and been expressly forbidden to have any contact with the man. His mobile phone chirped incessantly in his pocket.

"What do you want?" Kingston snarled angrily into the phone.

"Kingston, a little respect for your master," the annoying Italian voice said over the line. Kingston's blood cooled a degree or two.

"Lord Morte," Kinston's voice faltered a little as he tried desperately of something to say. "What ever can I do for you?"

"Kill the knight, like I instructed you to do months ago when his flea-bitten body washed ashore," the voice screamed across the line.

"It is not as simple as it looks," Kingston pleaded. "The child and his mother have contacted a journalist who's interested in the man's life."

"Do I sound like I care? Is this the impression that I give you? Because I truly do not. I want that knight dead by dusk."

**_The Hollis Home_**

Lanyon had shifted round to face the large group of neighbors that Felicia had been telling him about when she was pushing the bag of peas to his eye. Bloody, buggering security guards. If he'd had a weapon, those morons wouldn't know what hit them. A frown crossed his face. Where had that thought come from? Weapons? He certainly had never used weapons other than those cheap plastic mock-ups as a boy.

He didn't linger too long on this train of thought because of the young pregnant woman who stood not five feet away from him. She called him by name, though it wasn't really his name. It was, but it wasn't.

"Lancelot?"

"_I said don't touch me! Don't _ever _touch me!"_

"_I knew him for four days. Four little days. And I wish those four days could have lasted a lifetime. I loved him. That may be hard for you to get, but I know he loved me as well. That piece of paper doesn't mean a thing. I have my memories. That's all that I need of him."_

Lanyon's mouth went dry as his eyes locked tightly on the woman who'd tried to save his life over fifteen hundred years ago. His gaze went from person to person, recognizing his past in their eyes as well. Only three stood out as vague and partial memories, but the rest burned vividly through his mind. There stood his brothers, the Woad woman whom Arthur had fallen for, Vanora with whom he had flirted, their squire, the Roman Lady and her son that had cost them the life of Dagonet to begin with.

Dagonet. Lanyon jumped to his feet, rushing to Dawn's side so quickly that she almost tripped backwards. Her eyes opened wide in shock at the maniacal grin he knew he wore.

"You've been to see him? You know he lives?"

"What? Who lives?" Dawn whispered, tears shining in her eyes.

"Dag! Dagonet! The man you once claimed to love!" Lanyon's hands reached out to her, his fingers digging into her shoulders as he shook her. His eyes slid down accusingly to the bulge under her shirt. "The man who died for you - the one you have apparently forgotten!"

He didn't see her hand rushing up to meet his face, but he certainly felt it. Lanyon reeled back, his vision blurring at the jaw-jarring force of that little girl's hand slapping him. He stumbled back a few steps, rubbing his jaw as he looked back at her. Tears poured down her cheeks as she marched closer to him, anger and hurt warring in her eyes.

"I do still love him, but he's gone! He's locked away from me for forever because the Powers lied to him! He didn't get a fresh start like you did!" Dawn screamed, her voice ragged as she shrugged off one of her female companions. Even in this time, people rushed to defend the wounded little bird!

"No, he got a coma in a hospital ward and a doctor bent on ending his life!" Lanyon yelled right back at her. Part of him was quite satisfied to see the horrified expression in her eyes as she staggered backwards.

"He's what?"

"The knight, Dagonet, Mr. Dag is in hospital," Lucas Hollis said quietly, his hand slipping in Dawn's. "He's been waiting for you to find him, Lady Dawn."

Dawn's heart ached as she took in the boy's face for the first time. It didn't take long for her to see the other familiar faces in the Hollis family. Fulcina and Alecto stood with Jols and the younger Hollis children. They weren't called that in this time, just as the knights weren't called their old names. And Lucan was here, holding her hand, telling her that her Dag was alive.

"Dag's alive?" Dawn whispered, her anger at Lanyon forgotten in the moment. She crouched beside Lucan, her eyes searching his for the answer.

"Not for long," Lanyon answered for him.

"What do you mean?" Dawn cried. "Where is he?"

"Doctor Kingston plans to euthanize him up at Harrington Hospice within the day, I'd wager."

"Arthur?" Dawn spun around to face the tall, dark haired man Lanyon recognized as his old friend. He shook his head.

"Not him. Old Doctor Kingston."

**_Southern Briton, 467_**

_The travel through the countryside of Ancient Sarmatia and Gaul took them longer then they had suspected. Nearly four years after their escape from the Lord of Death, the four Sarmatian warriors found themselves nearly at their goal. Hadrian's Wall had been Lancelot and Tristan's post, that much they had been able to gather over the years._

"_Have you ever wondered, Morgana," Viviane said quietly to her as they made their way down the trail._

"_Wondered what?"_

"_Wondered what Isolde and Elaine will do if they find their knights married or if they have forgotten them?"_

"_It is possible in Elaine's case, but I doubt that Isolde's lover could ever forget her."_

"_Why do you say that?"_

"_Isolde had been properly betrothed to her knight. Elaine, while her drive to find him is stronger, she never admitted her love to him. He may see her as nothing more than a foolish child."_

_Morgana had often worried about these things, especially Elaine. The younger warrior had little control over her emotions, and the gods forbid someone stand in her way._

"_How are we to find these knights?"_

"_Blend in for now, discover where they have been posted. We'll meet here at nightfall. Elaine, Isolde, you take the north section of the village. Viviane and I will take the southern sector," Morgana divided her rough map of the area on the dirt road. "Do not use our names in the crowds. Raven, wolf, vixen and lioness are our names in this place. It is likely they will have not heard of us this far north, but the Roman centurions will have."_

"_No doubt a runner was sent to each corner of the empire looking for the bastard son of Death," Elaine muttered._

"_Nor the famed beauty of Lady Lion, the woman who's deadly beauty matched even great Helen of Sparta's," Isolde snapped. "You forget so easily why we have had to sneak about for the last two years. We've done it to save you from the fate the Raven has suffered."_

"_Yes, _Lady _Lioness, would you have been content to draw your skirts apart for Death? The Raven had no such choice to make, and her own babe has been torn from her grasp to -" Viviane's tirade was halted by Morgana's hand on her shoulder._

"_That is enough! What are we? Simpering Roman ladies or Sarmatian warriors? We have but one goal, and this bickering isn't solving anything!" Morgana cried, her eyes connecting with each of her sisters before she continued. "Now, ask your questions simply, no direct questions of certain peoples. You have heard of the infamous Arthur and his barbarian knights, you wonder how a lady might come to find such virile examples of manhood. We have heard they are at the wall, is it true. Simple questions."_

"_We've done this before, Raven," Elaine sighed._

"_Yes, but we've never been in Briton before, never had so many of our hopes riding on the back of this pursuit. We will not tempt the gods nor fate in this matter," Morgana spoke quietly. So much rested on finding their lost brothers-in-arms. "May the Goddess preserve us in this effort. Keep each other safe."_

**_Room 107, 2005_**

Two women were currently pacing in room 107 without being noticed by the staff at all. This could be because they were currently invisible to all human perspective. The man only identified as John Doe slept on, but not really. His astral form sat in the chair across from the bed, his eyes watching the two women who continued to argue.

"This isn't good, Tara!" the brunette that Dagonet had only met briefly cried, chewing on a nail.

"N-never said it was! I didn't know the old man was in on it!" Tara cried. "If I had, I would have informed you right away!"

"God, we have to figure out who this loser's puppet-master is and get rid of him!"

"You two are not exactly in the position to do anything," Dagonet sighed, glancing up at them.

"We could get the other liaison? Maybe she'll know what to do -"

"Europa's in on it with the doctor!" Cordelia snapped. "She's been in it since the beginning! It's why Whistler went ass-backwards about getting us into this without telling the Higher Planes or their other dl's. Short of Whistler, there's no one else we can turn to, Tara."

"Now princess, that makes me feel like chop liver," a new voice startled the two women.

A dark haired figure leaned against the doorframe. Cordelia's mouth hung open in disbelief as he gave her that little annoying Irish wink he was so good at. Allan Francis Doyle was the last person she expected to see in the eleventh hour, and the first person she'd wanted to see when she died. The first soldier down. Dagonet and Tara weren't shocked at the appearance of this new spirit, which kinda pissed her off.

"Finally, someone to talk sense into these two," Dagonet muttered. "Doyle, what news have you of my lady?"

"Little Dawn's got hell of a temper on her, that's for sure," Doyle smiled, clasping ghostly hands with the knight in welcome. "Bitch-slapped Lancelot's uppity new form, but not before he could tell her about you."

"He always did get under her skin," Dag laughed, a bit of the worry draining from his features.

"Before I act on my sudden urge to bitch-slap you myself for hiding away on the planes, I just gotta ask, " Cordelia marched over to Doyle, hands on her hips. "What are you doing here?"

"The Lady herself sent me to oversee this. Call it a bit of penance for dyin' on you and Angel."

"Doyle has been here before," Tara added. "I thought you knew."

"Nope, I didn't know the half-demon who gave me the visions that eventually killed me was sticking his nose in my case," Cordy huffed, giving Doyle a very dirty glare.

"Couldn't let you in on it. Europa could have found out, and then where would we be?"

"Right where we are now?"

"No, she would have done his bidding faster."

"He? Who he?"

"Can't tell you that, princess. All very cloak and dagger like business with this fellow."

"What do we do about Kingston?" Tara asked, her eyes flickering between her ghostly cohorts. If they continued on like this, they'd be here all day.

"Not much we can do. Hold him off a bit before she gets here."

"Okay, brain-trust, how are we supposed to do that?" Cordy snapped.

"Simple," Doyle grinned, pushing the door shut slowly. He leaned against it with his whole body, motioning for them to follow his lead.

"We're gonna stand in front of the door?"

**_The Hollis Home_**

"Did he just say what I think he said?" Willow asked, pushing past the other knights who had come to Dawn's side the second Lanyon had started freaking out.

"He's alive. He's been alive this whole time and now your freak of a father wants to kill him?" Dawn cried accusingly at Arthur.

"My father - he can't be thinking clearly. He only sees himself and what he would want in that position. But none of that matters! Bors, Lancelot," Arthur nodded to Boris and Lanyon, who apparently didn't notice the name slip and looked at him. "Faith, Dawn, and myself will go to identify him and stop this from happening. Willow, Guinevere, and Vanora, help Jols and Fulcinia deal with the remembering. Gawain, Galahad, Tristan and Vi, watch over them."

"Um, Artie, what the hell do you thinks gonna happen to them while we're gone?" Faith asked.

"We can't be sure. It's just a precautionary step."

"We have to go to him," Dawn murmured. "He told me to be patient and I didn't get it! Why didn't I get it?"

"Dawnie, stop beating yourself up about it," Gwen tried to reassure her. "There's no way you could have known. Europa and Cordelia told you that he wasn't here, that he hadn't been brought back."

"Why would they lie about it? Either way it was too late for me to conceive the 'right' baby. I was already carrying Dag's!"

"You're what?" Lanyon shook his head. "How is that possible?"

"Don't look so surprised, _Lancelot_," Dawn snapped herself out of the guilty train of thought about Dag. She watched as Lanyon's eyes narrowed. "I was sent back in time to conceive a baby of prophecy. Just be grateful that it isn't yours. I know I am."

Lanyon's shocked look was worth getting herself all upset over. Dawn had been determined to be decent to all of the knights, no matter how much they annoyed her in the past. She didn't take out her annoyance at Gawain and Galahad's Woad comments in the past on Gavin and Garrett. But something about Lanyon/Lancelot really bugged her. Maybe it was because he knew about Dag, that the Powers had somehow guided him to her love first that bothered her. Maybe it was just his smart-ass attitude that bugged her, or maybe it was just her hormones being out of whack and the realization that Dag was alive and near death without her. It was probably the last one.

"Dawn, we don't have time for this. Everyone get to work," Arthur's voice pulled her from her thoughts as Boris took her arm and led her back up the garden path and through the house. Faith was just behind her, separating her from Lancelot and Arthur.

"Well, I guess we're not having a nice quiet picnic," Felicia muttered.

"No, because we've got a ton of explaining to do," Willow answered, sitting down at the table as she watched the car speed out of the drive.

"Arthur fell back very quickly to calling us by name," Gavin murmured, sitting beside Willow.

"That could be because the memory recognition spell was so strong with Lancelot that it was easier to fall back on the old names."

"Excuse me, but can you explain to me why he called us 'old names'? Jenna, what's going on?" Joel Hollis cried.

"Joel," Willow said calmly, a smile on her face as she pulled his attention away from the other red haired woman. "It's gonna sound weird, but do you believe in reincarnation?"

"What? Who the hell are you people?"

"Oh, yeah, this is gonna be a load of fun," Willow sighed.

Vi stood with her arms crossed, her eyes on the road Dawn had just raced down. She was faintly aware of Willow and Gavin explaining to the family about their reincarnation, but her mind was stuck on the thoughts of her own. She heard someone come up beside her, and she knew that she wasn't the only one thinking about that time of her life.

"You haven't looked me in the face in over an hour, Vi," Garrett said quietly.

"Neither have you," Vi shrugged, turning away from him.

"Will you stop acting like a child? You remember being her, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do."

"I don't," Vi looked him in the eye, determined to prove him wrong. She could look at him and not think about that life that she was pretty sure didn't really exist. Honest.

"You are a horrible liar. You remember something, don't you?"

"What if I do? What the hell is it going to change? You don't remember it anymore than I do!" Vi cried, giving him an accusing look. "And you're just as afraid to remember as I am."

**_Room 107_**

"What the hell do you mean you can't open the blasted door?" Kingston shouted at the incompetent nurse in front of him. "They don't lock! My patient could be dying in there and I've no way to treat him from out here!"

"Like the bastard really cares," Cordy snorted, leaning harder against the door. "He's pulling the plug on Dag today anyway."

"He does care. If he doesn't off Dag today, his master will be sorely pissed at him. That man's not the type to react kindly to disappointment." Doyle muttered.

"What the hell does this guy have against Dag?"

"Dag? Not a damn thing. Dag's kinda the innocent one in this scenario. Arthur, Lancelot, and the women that love them, that's who he hates."

"And to get at them, he'll strike down Dag while he still can," Tara added.

**_South of the Wall, 467_**

_Three weeks of reconnaissance had led them here. The word had spread of the Britons defeat of the Saxon army at Badon Hill, and the legendary Sarmatian knights who had led them to victory. In all their searching, the four Sarmatian sisters found no mention of the knights they searched out by name. No individual warrior was ever named, save their leader. Arthur Castus, a Briton out of Rome._

"_The main populace is still at the wall of Hadrian," Morgana spoke quietly to her sisters. "The knights still remain their, though their numbers are few."_

"_How few?" Elaine demanded._

"_No more than seven," Isolde said, her eyes cast downward. _

"_Seven? Out of the hundreds the Roman scum took from our people?" Elaine cried._

"_A whole generation's worth," Viviane murmured._

"_Silence," Morgana commanded, looking each of them in the eye. "None of these people have seen the knights, so there is the chance that they are simply wrong in the numbers. We have not crossed the breadth of the entire Roman empire to be struck down by idle gossip. Your men could still live, our people could still live. We cannot know what tomorrow will bring, nor can we know what yesterday has sown. All we can do is search it out. The trip is a day and a half's journey. We rest tonight and move out in the morning."_

_The next few hours passed in silence and half-sleep. It was hard for any of them to rest peacefully ever, and tonight proved to be as difficult as ever. Viviane rolled over, her eyes resting on Morgana._

"_What is it, Viviane?" Morgana said quietly._

"_Nothing," Viviane replied, her eyes shifting away again._

"_You cannot lie, Viviane. Tell me what troubles you."_

"_Do you remember the day the Romans came to your village, to collect the debt?"_

"_Far too well. Why do you ask?" When Viviane did not answer, Morgana pushed the question farther. "Did the Romans take a loved one from you as well, Viviane?"_

"_No, not in the sense that they took a love from Isolde and Elaine. He was a gentle boy, a good ten years elder than I. He watched over me once. And then he was gone."_

"_And did you wish to find him? To seek him out as Elaine and Isolde have?"_

"_No, I hardly remembered him until now."_

"_What was he called, this boy of yours?"_

"_Dagonet."_

**_Harrington Hospice, 2005_**

The ride from the house to the hospice had been quiet and awkward. Boris had spent half of the trip with his arm protectively around Dawn. Arthur drove as fast as he could. He cursed himself for not trusting that flickering idea three days back. He should have known that the man from the lake had been Dagonet. He'd thought it. He should have known.

Lanyon rubbed his jaw as his past coursed through his mind. Maybe the rush of old memories and personality had been too much. Maybe that was why he'd lashed out at the poor girl so harshly.

"How'd you find him?' Dawn asked, catching his eye in the review mirror.

"Dagonet?" She nodded slowly. "I was sent here to do a story on his rescue. Which is odd, considering my editor didn't even know he assigned me the story."

"What?"

"He never assigned me to it, and yet here I am."

"Sounds like something the Powers would cook up," Faith muttered.

"Is this it?" Dawn asked, ignoring Faith's comment.

"Yeah," Lanyon murmured. "We've got a bit of a problem though."

"What? What problem?" Dawn's voice cracked as panic set in.

"I'm banned from setting foot in the place."

"I thought it was a real problem, knight-boy," Faith scoffed, pushing her door open. She held a hand out to Dawn.

"Do you know what room he's in?' Lanyon glared back at her.

"107," Arthur said calmly, undoing his belt. "Lancelot, stay just outside the door. Boris, Faith, you're with us."

Arthur took Dawn's arm from Faith and led the way through the doors. The nurse sitting at the desk looked up at them with a smile on her face.

"Artie, I didn't know you'd be in today You're da's in, checking in on his patient."

"The John Doe case?" Arthur said pleasantly, giving her a small smile in return.

"Yeah, that poor man. Imagine not having a soul in the world to care for you -"

"He does have someone to care for him!" Dawn cried, tears welling in her eyes. The nurse's eyes widened in shock as she looked between Dawn and Arthur.

"Yes, he does. Margaret, this is his fiancé and his brother."

"Oh! Don't let me stop you, then!" Margaret pushed the button and the doors swung open.

Arthur led them down a winding corridor. Dawn's mind raced with thoughts of fear and doubt.

"Why would the liaisons lie to me? Why would Cordelia tell me he hadn't been reborn like the rest of you? Why would they try to keep me away?"

"Cause the Powers suck?" Faith asked.

"No! It doesn't make any sense. Unless they were trying to push me to make some kind of connection with Lancelot, and make the 'right' baby."

"That doesn't explain why they would make Lancelot the one to find Dagonet and tell you that he's alive," Arthur turned right at the end of the corridor heading to another set of glass doors.

The door around 107 was surrounded by two guards, three nurses and an older man. Panic skipped through Dawn's veins as she thought of all the possibilities. He couldn't be dead. Not after she'd finally found him.

"We're not calling him Dagwood," she blurted, getting odd looks from the others.

"What?"

"We're not making up some lame ass modern name for him," Dawn gritted her teeth. "If he's got one, great, but to us and to them he's Dagonet. Got it?"

"Arthur, what are you doing here, son?" the older man called.

"Father, I've got good news. We've found John Doe's family."

"You what?" Old Doctor Kingston paled, his eyes flickering to the three people with his son.

"His fiancé and his brother came into the clinic yesterday asking if we'd seen a man matching his description. He'd been hiking near the lake when he'd disappeared, hadn't he, Ms. Summers?"

"Yeah, Dag was the outdoors-y type to a T."

"Baby brother never could resist a bit of the rugged terrain. I knew I should have gone with him," Boris said gruffly, getting in on the act. Dawn squeezed his hand.

"You can't blame yourself, Boris. We gotta keep hoping that it's him, right, D?" Faith gave the Doctor her 'good' girl act, not wanting to be left out.

"Is he in there?" Dawn whispered, not having to fake the crocodile tears that formed in her eyes.

"We can't open the door," Doctor Kingston said gruffly.

"That's our cue," Doyle grinned at Dagonet. His hand turned the handle, the click ringing through the ears of the ten people huddled outside the door.

The door creaked open on it's own, shocking the nurses and guards in front of it. Dawn didn't wait for them to move. She pushed her way through the group, shrugging off Doctor Kingston's cold hand on her arm as she ran into the room. Her eyes locked on the still form in the bed. Even after meeting all of the other knights, it still struck her as odd to see such a familiar face in such modern settings. She shivered, almost afraid to move. Afraid to shatter this moment and have it all be a dream again.

Dagonet's astral form circled her protectively. He'd been right all those years ago. She looked beautiful carrying his child. His hands ghosted over her shoulder and she shivered again. Dawn stepped forward, her hand outstretched to take his sleeping form's hand. Dagonet took a shaky breath as she cried. She had found him, his brave beautiful girl had found him again.


	17. 17a: This Is How It Was For Us

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary: Bringing him home again….  
A/N: We're getting down to the last two chapters of SL. Dag is safe (sleeping, but safe), all of the knights are together again, and Morgana can finally be happy. Right?  
A/N2: I know - I know. It took forever. I'm sorry. I actually have had the last two chapters mapped out on a piece of paper (which I normally don't do because then it kinda kills the story and urgency to write out of me) for the last year and a half. I know what's gonna happen in this, know where I have to take the story and characters, but dammit, they just wouldn't cooperate with me for the last eight months.  
A/N3: This part is slightly smaller because it's chapter 17a. I broke it in two so that there was some proof that I actually have been working on this. Kay?

_17a. This Is How It Was For Us_

_There might be a way yet. If she gave the mirror back to the sea, help would come, Laurel had said. She could open that road again.  
- __**Under Camelot's Banner, **_**Sarah Zettel**_**  
**_

_**Outside Delphi  
Two Hours Earlier**_

The little boy was held tightly to his mother's chest as she yanked his shaken father forward into the mock temple that the tourism bureau had fashioned years ago. Morgana couldn't let anything happen to them, and had hurriedly whisked them away from Europa's discovery. If the slippery little twit of a liaison learned of Morgana's son, she would most certainly direct her true master to them. Her stupid mistakes were jeopardizing sixteen hundred years of planning.

"I - I don't understand how - Morgan, what's going on?" Percy shook his head again, trying to focus on where he was and what had happened.

"Percy, give me like five minutes, all right? I promise I will explain everything then," Morgana murmured, holding her son tighter to her breast.

"You - you did something to us, to our son and to me -" Percy's hand clenched onto her arm tightly as he saw Morgana's glare directed on her.

"Percy, this isn't really the time for you to be catching up to speed. If he even gets wind that you and the child are alive - "

"All hell will literally break loose with his wrath," Kassandra interrupted them. "He would do to your love and your son what his former self had done to me and my first born child. My one and only son. What he did to your first son."

There was such pain in her words. Morgana's heart tore at that thought, and clutched tightly at her baby. Percy's hands tugged firmly on her, and she knew it was weak to lean back on him. Kassandra smiled sadly at them. It had three lifetimes to form this little family - three repetitious cycles of death and war and impossible love - one had already lived through this three times, and the other two had lived through this twice. Kassandra reached out to touch the soft skin of the little boy. He looked a little like her lost son and her brothers, this precious little child.

Apollo's curse on her had waned over the centuries, but not before he had stripped everything from her. Andros, her infant son, had been slaughtered months before her own death. Kassandra blinked away her tears as she heard Ismene and Pelagius enter behind her. Yes, they must protect this innocent little life from his soul's venomous father. She turned her gaze back to the younger Power. Morgana's eyes - those ever expressive orbs that she had surely inherited from her father - spoke her request before she even voiced it. That or Kassandra had become extremely well-versed in the art of reading people. She'd definitely had had the time to hone that skill.

"Mother, I implore you to protect them from him," Morgana begged. "I can't watch after them and -"

"Shh, my daughter. You have far to go to aid your knights, and the gods know we cannot let innocent blood be spilt. Give me the child."

Her grandson came to her arms easily, and Morgana gave her little boy to Kassandra despite Percy's unspoken protest. A sad smile crossed Kassandra's lips. It had been so long since she'd held a child. Her Andros had been torn from her too soon, and her daughters given safely over to her trusted handmaiden and their father respectively not long after they were born. The battle for Troy had long since ended by the time her daughters had been born, but the fear had long been ingrained in the former priestess turned Power. She'd had three short months with her daughters. Morganna had been sent to the east and to the Amazonian descendants of her grandmother's people, while Guinevere had gone north to their father and the Woads who would treat her as the high lady of Kassandra's father's people.

"You haven't time to let the red-haired witch work her magic, Morgana." Kassandra murmured softly against her grandson's head. "You're very loyal troop is losing ground quickly, and if the abomination gets his grips into the first knight, your plan will quickly unravel. Where the heart is left wanting soon the spirits fail."

"Mother, you could have easily have said 'or the past will again repeat itself'." Morgana grumbled.

"Yes, but then you would roll your eyes and ignore me as so many have in my past. We will explain it to the boy," Kassandra shifted the sleepy little boy in her arms as she looked between her daughter and the former knight. "Now go. He plots and pulls on old tricks to sway the oldest slayer."

"The pendant?" Morgana whispered. "I thought -"

"You assumed that he would let go of such a valuable trinket?"

"Excuse me - are you making any bloody sense?" Percy snapped, glancing between the mother of his child and her mother.

"Percy -" Morgana stopped at the look Kassandra gave her a look she was all too familiar with.

"It will all make sense in due time, my boy. Unfortunately Morgana hasn't the time to explain it more thoroughly to you. That chore is left to her aunt and I to handle."

"Morgan -"

"Percy I have to go. Kassandra will look after you and the baby. I have to go."

Morgana turned away from her love and her baby and went to do what she'd been brought back to do. It was time to right the wrongs she'd done in the past.

_**Harrington Hospice, 2005**_

Dawn took in every nuance of his face and of his body not realizing how much of him she'd missed and taken for granted when he'd been alive. She could hear the others in the room, talking quietly to each other. Faith stood at the doorway, her eyes drifting between the younger woman and the doctor hovering just outside the doorway with Arthur. Faith didn't like hospitals, and normally, neither did Dawn. The fact that doctor death dealer was pacing just outside their door wasn't easing the creepy feeling either woman was having at the moment. Boris stood beside her, torn between going to his old friend's side with Dawn or keeping Arthur's father out of the room. Arthur glanced back into the room every so often, but most of his attention was on his fuming father.

Boris had come over after a few minutes, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. Dawn smiled up at him, one hand clutching Dag's hand, the other resting on Boris' hand on her shoulder.

"He's safe now, little one. We've got him home again."

"Is he? He was seconds away from death, Boris. I almost lost him again."

"Hush now, we've got our boy back where he belongs. With his family, his woman and his babe," Boris kissed the top of her head. Dawn's lips quivered as she remembered the baby. _The wrong baby_. The liaisons' words shivered down her spin as she watched the sleeping man. Her child was Dagonet's baby, not this reincarnation of him. The child of a man long dead.

"How will he react?" Dawn whispered, the thought racing through her mind. "I mean, it's _his_ baby, but it's not."

"If he's anything like our Dag was, he'll love it no matter what," Boris glanced up at Faith, not sure how to handle this. She gave him an equally confused look. She was just here to train 'em, she didn't know how this Dag would react to the announcement that Dawn was carrying the child of a man who'd been dead for well over sixteen hundred years.

"And will he still love me?" Dawn whimpered. She'd gotten his image back, but that wasn't the same thing as having the same man back. None of the knights were _exactly_ like they had been back then. Not even Boris was the same man.

"D," Faith gently nudged Boris out of the way, and sat on the edge of the chair, her arm slipping around her. "He's gotta love you. You're smokin' hot, D. 'Sides, Boris was makin' out with his girl from the past within twenty minutes. He can't forget the love you shared, not if Gwen and Art and Boris and Jenna all remembered their love. No doubt they've got half a what you had with Dagonet."

"The tart speaks true enough," Boris winked at Faith, who only punched him lightly on the shoulder. Dawn gave the two of them a watery smile.

"Oh, Dag, I wish you would wake up," Dawn sighed heavily, her hand clasping his tightly. She whispered quietly for only him to here. "Even if you're not really you anymore, I still need you."

Outside in the hallway, old Dr. Kingston was fuming away at his son. Arthur glanced back over at his knights - that immediate knowledge of them being his brothers had come on stronger than he'd ever imagined with the arrival of Lancelot or Lanyon, or whatever he was going by in this day and age. It took all of Arthur's concentration to focus on his father's outraged blustering.

"Father, she is his fiancée. That man is his brother. We've found his family, I should think you'd be happy for them. And for yourself. You can finally retire and take mother on that holiday you kept pushing back."

"Of course I would be happy - if I was genuinely convinced that this man and woman are whom they claim to be," his father huffed.

"I vouched for them, Father," Arthur tried to shake away his confusion as he looked at his father. "I give you my word that they are who they say they are. I have seen - "

"It's not your word I need, boy," his father snapped, raking a hand through his hair. "Photo identification, a license, a certificate of birth, DNA screening -"

"What would they gain by claiming a man that doesn't belong to them?" Arthur cut his father off from his need for proof. "Someone has at last claimed a man we thought forgotten by the world. That in itself is a remarkable thing."

"If it proves to be true, then yes," Kingston, sr. huffed, "I suppose it would be rather remarkable." _Remarkable if I'm not struck down by the frightening little Italian man's legion of henchmen for failing so utterly for not keeping my son away from this man._

"All of which I'd be more than happy to provide," a dark haired woman said from behind them. Arthur turned around in utter shock.

"Mor-" Arthur's entire body froze as the recognition hit him hard.

"Hush, now, Arthur dear. Let the grown-ups handle this," the woman dug through a large beaded bag and handed an ample supply of paper to Arthur's father. Arthur frowned at her. The paper was blank, as was the photo paper. She merely winked at him. His father fidgeted again.

"Dagonet Knight Haggarty, twenty-nine, younger adopted brother of Boris Haggarty. Engaged to one Dawn Marie Summers, twenty-one, currently the expectant mother of his unborn child. Both are employees of the IWC, a prominent philanthropic organization dedicated to helping underprivileged children and teens throughout the world. A watchdog organization. Here are their last three years tax records, in L.A., Rome, and most currently London." The woman paused for a breath as Lanyon burst through the doors behind her. The nurse Margaret and two guards were chasing after him. Lanyon paused, watching her curiously as she smiled. "I see you've already met the IWC's press correspondent?"

"And just who might you be, young lady?" Dr. Kingston blustered, shaking the papers rudely in her face.

All light and laughter went out of her eyes. She slapped his hand away from her face, shocking Arthur and Lanyon. An angry red welt formed on his hand as he shrank back from her, almost cowering behind his son. She pulled herself up to her full height. Arthur recognized the straightening of those same shoulders in a similar confrontation so many lifetimes ago.

"Morgana Fey Raven," Morgana snapped, an old power dripping from her words as she leveled a glare on the now shaken doctor. "You and your staff will now immediately prepare Mr. Haggarty to be moved to the location I will provide your staff. And you will take my name to your _superior_, and tell him that the Raven is not as weak as she was when we met last."

Arthur watched in shock as his father simply nodded and scurried away towards the nurses' station. Morgana simply let out a low breath. She looked at him for a brief moment, showing him the sorrow in her eyes. Then without another word, she entered Dagonet's room, waiting for the two former knights to follow her in.

_**The Village South of Hadrian's Wall, 467-468**_

_As all things with the four Sarmatian women, the journey proved to be more difficult than they had originally planned. The year had turned in the five days it took for them to finally reach their destination. The last of the Roman troops had moved out, running for the safety of their mother country and fleeing the dangerous outposts of the empire. Such movement hindered the times when Morgana could safely lead her own small troop. Warrants and their images had surely been sent out to even the farthest reaches of the dwindling Empire._

_They reached the village at Hadrian's Wall in the early morning hours of their sixth day of travel. The sun had barely peaked over the hills and already laborers' worked on the construction of a new building alongside the existing fort. New outbuilding had already been built in the village itself, and the heavy scent of fresh cut wood assaulted their senses. Other new comers to the village bustled in the faint early morning light, some out looking for work or going to work. _

"_The murmurings must be true," Viviane murmured to Morgana._

"_What murmurings?" Elaine asked brusquely._

"_Of Saxon scum laying waste to Briton," Isolde snapped, her paitience with the often-troublesome Lady Lion wearing thin. "This isle positively reeks with fear and hopelessness."_

"_Imagine what it would be like to see these once noble people without the shackles of the Roman and the death threats of the Saxon bearing down on them all at once," Viviane murmured. Leave it to Viviane to pity those in a less dire situation than she herself had been in less than a year ago._

"_I imagine our men looked as depressing to them as they do to us," Morgana answered, drawing her hood closer round her face._

"_Our men still bore the nobility of our people," Elaine sniffed, thinking of her own Lancelot._

"_Yes, such noble slaves to Rome they made," Morgana couldn't hold her tongue any longer. Elaine's superiority was wearing thin on her own nerves. "Such _noble _fodder, to die for a now abandoned outpost."_

"_You will hold your tongue when you speak of such men, wench," a voice boomed from behind her._

_Morgana turned to face the war-scarred man standing threateningly behind them. The set of his eyes seemed familiar, and the anger in his voice marked his lineage better than any stamp, seal or crest ever could. He was Sarmatian, of this there was no doubt. The wench and dozen children screaming and playing behind him were not. The woman was out of Briton, while the children obviously had been sired by a Sarmatian who prided himself a stud of sorts. Morgana had not hoped to confront one of her countrymen this way, but she had little choice in how the Gods deemed for this encounter to play out._

_This was not the time for stooping and bowing to keep hidden. Indeed, they had little to fear with the Romans in a mad dash to free themselves of this unsavory territory. Morgana pulled the hood away from her face so the man could see the same features of their people that had been on his own face and the face of his children. He had answered her claim in the crude tongue of his new home, while her own claim had been in the tongue of her people. A thought crossed her mind._

"_As such a victim of Rome as you have been, I've no doubt you too have felt my sentiment, brother," Morgana spoke slowly in the Sarmatian tongue. The red-haired woman beside him looked damned uncomfortable at her use of the foreign tongue._

"_I ain't your brother, you little - "_

"_Bors, what'd she say?" the woman asked, clutching a bundle closer to her chest._

"_What?" the man named Bors looked back at her. "Didn't you hear her clearly enough?"_

"_She spoke in tongues, Bors. I can barely understand the Woad tongue."_

"_I said that we have all been slaves to the damned Romans and have little to thank them for, Briton," Morgana said drolly, making sure that her accent was thicker than necessary. "For the broodmare of a Sarmatian, one would think you'd have picked up on his People's language."_

"_Raven - " Isolde warned from beneath her cloak's hood._

"_Hush, Wolf," Morgana warned in Sarmatian, before switching back. "We seek the noble knight who led many of our brothers to their unnecessary deaths."_

"_Then you do not have far to go, my lady," A voice said from behind Bors' herd of children. A man tall and with the stance of an emperor or pope stood at the end of the herd of children. It was the man the Oracle had showed her, the man she had been sent to find. Two men stood beside him, weapons drawn. They bore the looks of the northern and western tribes of her people. None bore the looks of the eastern or southern tribes, the tribes marking the men they had sought for so many years._

_And looking at them, Morgana knew the truth. She saw the deaths of the men they had sought. It was far fewer than seven of her countrymen that now lived at that bastard Hadrian's Wall. Three remained of a generation's worth of Sarmatian men. And none of those three were the three that the Sarmatian ladies had been purposely searching to find._

_Lancelot and Tristan had not lived long enough to fully taste their freedom from Rome. Poor Dagonet, the gentle giant and protector, had not even had a glimpse of his freedom._

_**Summers Cottage, 2005**_

Buffy peered in through the darkened windows of the large cottage her sister, Faith, Vi, and Willow all now lived in with a half dozen strange men and woman who had some creepy past-life bond. Hurt and a bit of anger lanced through her as she thought about it. Dawn should be in London or better yet, Rome, working behind the scenes for the Council. Her little sister should not be pregnant and working for the damned Powers that Suck Beyond the Telling of it.

"Miss Summers? Is everything alright?" a woman asked, startling her. Buffy whirled around to face the newcomer. The tall dark haired woman gasped in her own shock. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, miss. I thought you were one of the family."

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, puzzled at her comment.

"I thought you were one of the Summers sisters. But, looking at you close up I can see I was clearly mistaken."

"You weren't," Buffy snapped, the hurt and anger growing.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I had met all of the five sisters. They didn't mention a sixth sister."

"I'm the oldest. I'm Buffy Summers, and you are?"

"Oh! I'm Eugenia Mortimer. Well, this certainly explains everything."

"Huh?"

"I work at the post office you see, and this strange package came for a Buffy Summers. Naturally, I knew of Faith, Gwen, Vi, Dawn and Willow Summers, but I did not recall meeting a sister with the odd name," a chagrinned look passed over her delicate features. "Pardon for the insult."

"You were saying there was a package?" Buffy said coolly.

"Oh, yes," the younger woman appeared to be flustered. "Here's your package Miss Summers. We hardly ever get post from London, much less Italy. That's why I was convinced it was a prank, you see."

"Sure, whatever."

"Well, I best be off. Supper with the family and all. Can't keep my family waiting."

"Yeah. Thanks for dropping it off."

"Not a problem, you have a good evening Miss Summers."

Buffy waited until the woman left before actually taking a look at the package. It was the size of a ring box, and the address was her own in London. She smiled faintly. The Immortal was always sending her little trinkets in the mail, and they always arrived when she least expected them to.

Inside the box was a pale gold necklace that looked old but glittered as if it were brand new. Four glittering diamonds separated three dark pink stone roses all wound together by fine delicate gold strands. Buffy frowned slightly as she delicately ran a fingertip over the pendant. A unpleasant chill ran over her spine as she held the necklace. She glanced at her watch. Where the hell was everyone?

Over the hill, Europa watched as Buffy Summers stared down at the pendant that had once drawn the Lady Lion's broken heart over to the Lord of Death's side. She had not wanted this woman near her Lord, but even now Europa could not bend her master to her will. He did not wish to possess her as much as he wished to possess this soul. Three times he'd vied for her soul, and two times so far he had been rebuffed. He had possessed her body in each incarnation, but her heart and her soul still belonged to another man. It was a snub the Lord of Death could not and would not bear any longer.

Europa felt her own heart sink in guilt and pain as she turned to return to her lord. But she found she could not move with the ease she had before. She tried again, but still could not budge her form to her master's side. She looked frantically around her, searching out the source of her powerlessness. The answer came quickly enough.

"Oh, Europa, we are so disappointed in you," Ismene sighed from behind her. "We had put so much hope in you this time, and you have spat in our faces."


	18. 17b: This Is How It Is For You

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradleys _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary: Coming home again.  
A/N: For the Quote - its the continuation of 17a's quote. I was too lazy to run downstairs and be mauled by my cranky-pants sister to find a new quote. Sue me. (You'll get nothing. I own nothing of value.)

A/N2: Okay so it's been two years since I updated this. And I feel bad about that, honestly. But life decided to be an uber-bitch to me and mine in those years. First there were issues with my youngest niece. That happened in late '07 early '08. Then my mom had a heart attack in the summer of '08, and between work and taking care of her there was just no time to write. So. The story got pushed back and rl had to take precedence.

__

17b. This Is How It Is For You

!  
_But she would have to sacrifice her means of reaching Laurel. She could not do it. Not even to gain a few days.  
- **Under Camelot's Banner, **_Sarah Zettel_  
_!

* * *

!  
**_Harrington Hospice, 2005_  
!**

The door to Dagonet's room burst open hurriedly as a petite brunette woman strode past Faith's rushed maneuvering to protect Dawn and Dag. The shorter woman gave the slayer a very bored look before she went to the bedside. Her glance landed not on the prone figure on the bed but slightly to the left of Dawn herself. She smiled softly.

"We'll have him back to rights soon enough, little key," the woman whispered.

"What?"

"Lanyon, use your mobile to contact Willow, Gavin and Trevor. They must make all haste to Summers' cottage, and tell the girl sitting on the porch that the package in question is not all it appears to be and that she shouldn't think of putting on the tacky thing. The color will so clash with the outfit -"

"Who the hell are you?" Faith murmured, her eyes locking on the woman.

"Little wolf, now is not the time to be asking silly questions when you well know the answers. Faith, you are to guide Lanyon safely back to the Cottage and set up the room off the kitchen for Dagonet. The transport will arrive safely within the hour, and we need the room to be cleared of all unnecessary clutter."

"How do you know about the back room? I was just thinking that would be a good room for him," Dawn murmured, her mind still stuck between panic and bewilderment at the woman who had swooped down on them like - like a -

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'raven'," the woman smiled, but continued glaring at Faith and Lanyon. "Faster would be better."

"Miss Raven has Dagonet's identification, Dawn," Arthur broke in, standing at the doorway. Dawn frowned at him before looking back at the - well, Miss Raven. "He's been released into your care."

Dawn glanced back at the man, the look in his eyes clearly saying what he couldn't say in mixed company. _She freaks me right the fuck out, too, but now's really not the time to look gift horses in the mouth._ Dawn shivered at the thought, the history buff in her making her think of that _one_ horse that should have been looked in the mouth, and the belly, and the butt too.

"She does so against his doctor's wishes. Son, now is definitely not the time for this man-"

"To escape being euthanized?" Miss Raven snapped angrily. Her hands clenched as if she meant to wield some weapon against him. "I don't believe we have any need of your skills, Doctor Kingston. Pray, leave the real work to your very capable assistants. We've a very tight schedule to keep."

Dawn looked between the woman and Arthur's father, not sure who or what to believe. One of them wanted to kill Dag, and the other wanted to save him. The problem was that she wasn't sure at all who to believe. Dawn knew that everyone else was waiting on her for the right answers and she just wasn't sure which one was the right choice. She closed her eyes and prayed for the answer to come to her.

She didn't have to wait long. Miss Raven looked past her shoulder, staring at the empty space behind her and the prone figure of Dag. She nodded encouragingly, which made Dawn frown.

Suddenly, her fingers were clenched tightly in Dagonet's. His breathing hadn't changed and his eyes were still closed, but his fingers dug into hers, and she felt the tears slipping over her cheeks unchecked.

"Doctor Kingston, I thank you for all you've done for Dagonet, but I'm taking my fiancé home _today_. Miss Raven, I knew I could count on you to make all the necessary arrangements."

"Of course, Miss Summers," Miss Raven murmured quietly.

* * *

!  
**_The Summers Cottage_  
!**

Buffy stared at the necklace for a long time, considering. It was pretty and all, but she didn't really have anything that would go with it. It was too long for most of her shirts and she wasn't planning on going out to gala functions or clubs any time soon. She'd come north to help take care of her sister during her first pregnancy, to right the wrong she felt she'd done to her by walking out on Dawn when she needed family the most. Willow, Vi, Gwen and even Faith were good in a pinch, but she and Dawn shared blood.

Bruised egos and hurt feelings shouldn't matter anymore. She'd just snapped the box closed again when a car squealed up the drive. Buffy frowned.

"Buffy? What are you - did someone just bring you a package?" Willow bubbled out, her finger pointing at the open manila envelope.

"Does your super-duper witchy-ways now include a tap into the psychic friends network, Wills?" Buffy joked, taking in the two guys flanking her best friend. "Where's Dawnie?"

"At the hospital."

"What? Is she okay? Did something happen with the baby?" Panic coursed through her. She knew she should have been by her sister's side sooner.

"She's fine - its one of the guys, food poisoning," Willow bubbled out, her eyes locking on the box.

"Ouch. A knight brought down by some bad fish? Kinda sucks." Now would be a really good time for a nasty vamp attack, just to ease her rush of adrenaline. Just like a vamp to be so not accommodating, even if the sun was still high in the sky. Buffy's fingers itched to punch something repeatedly.

"Yeah. Sensitive stomachs and all that. Um, you want to come in?" Willow fumbled with the keys for a minute, her eyes still locked on Buffy's mystery package.

"I was hoping on it."

"That necklace won't look good on you," the blond guy muttered.

"How did you know it was a necklace?" Buffy asked at the same time that Willow hissed Gavin's name. "I mean, most guys would look at this box and think ring - or really stretching it, earrings. You jump on necklace. Why?"

"We've got a lot of work to do, and we really don't have time to discuss the stupid necklace," Trevor snapped, pushing the door open behind them. "We need to secure the cottage and, Faith and the -"

"Secure the cottage? From what?"

Buffy's question wasn't answered as Willow ushered her into the Cottage, with Trevor in the lead and Gavin behind them watching their backs. It was a cozy place, and Buffy felt her heart clench a bit as she saw pictures of her friends and family on the walls. It felt more like a home than any place they'd lived in since Sunnydale had collapsed in on itself. Dawn had always been able to make any space feel like a real home, she got that gift from their mother.

Buffy glared at the two knights that had left the friends sitting alone in the front parlor. Something was definitely not good. Especially since they were now treating her arrival like it was a sign of one of the many apocalypses the original Scoobies had faced down.

"We're secure," Trevor muttered, coming back into the foyer.

"Once again, secure from _what_?" Buffy demanded.

"Would you believe us if we said that we didn't have an answer for that?" Gavin's eyes caught Willow's over Buffys shoulder, sending a not-too-covert message to her best friend.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that."

* * *

!  
**_The Village South of Hadrian's Wall, 468_  
!**

__

"Tell me, my lady, will you seek a pound of flesh in retribution? For I can tell you truthfully that I have not gone a moment without mourning their loss." The tall dark knight spoke the words that she had thought would only pay lip service to the mens' deaths, and was shocked to see the pain reflected in his eyes.

"Fitting for a pagan to draw a pound of flesh from such a

"Archer, Raven," Viviane muttered from behind her in the old tongue. "Female, of Briton stock, I believe."

"And an excellent aim, I am sure," Morgana smirked convincingly in the direction of the woman. Switching back from her mother-tongue, Morgana leveled her gaze on the man before her. "But drawing revenge on Roman cast-offs never did suit my style. Throw me a bishop, a man of high, Christian cloth and I will have no qualms of sending him to his God on High."

Morgana drew her hands out to her sides, palms facing out. Bending her knees and head in slight deference to the man before her, Morgana tried to scramble her thoughts together. Isolde and Elaine would not be thinking clearly once they learned of their knights. She and Viviane would be much at the mercy of these five individuals.

"What women are you that you seek retribution on behalf of the Sarmatians?" The youngest knight, the one who looked more western than the others demanded. He had the look of a man high in his cups, though the day had barely passed into midday.

"Brother, do you remember so little of your people? We are your sisters, bound by common bloodlines, of ancient tribes that go farther back than even Rome can recall!" Morgana stared at him, not really all that shocked that he did not place them as his people. He must have been taken at a young age to remember so little of their culture.

"You're Sarmatian?" the blond spoke, clearly from the Northern tribes.

"We are the Sarmatian Ladies, warriors in our own right. Slaves to Rome just as you are," Viviane spoke up, taking on their cause just as well as Morgana could. Isolde and Elaine were at their back, searching in vain for familiar faces.

"I'm not Rome's slave - not anymore!" the first knight spat, shaking his sword in Viviane's direction angrily. She cocked one slender brow at his vehemence but did not react to him in any other fashion.

"Neither are we, not any longer," Morgana said quietly. She turned her attention back to the leader, and the female who'd come down from the battlements to join her mate. "We came in search of the fabled Arthur, Knight Protector of Briton. We came in search of our brothers, kinsmen, and betrothed. We have come to the last safe outpost from Roman tyranny."

"Betrothed? Who among you was betrothed to one of my knights?" Arthur seemed shocked at that bit of news.

"My sister from the Eastern tribes had been betrothed, my sister from the North sought out a kinsmen, as have I and my sister from the Southern tribe."

"Mayhap if you and your sisters deigned to name yourselves one of us would be willing to claim you as kin," the Northerner snorted in their direction.

"If I knew that we spoke with the great Arthur, then mayhap we would," Morgana shot back. "Mayhap, if we could speak indoors and not where any agent of ill wills could hear us, we would speak our names proudly."

"I am Arthur. These are my dearest friends and brothers," His hands spread out to each man in turn. "Bors," his head nodded to the shorn knight, "Galahad," to the youngest knight, "Gawain." The Northerner. "And my wife, Guinevere."

"Only fair you give him the same courtesy he has given you," Guinevere was the only one to speak in the quiet that had fallen after the introductions. Morgana knew that Isolde and Elaine were only now just realizing Tristan and Lancelot would not be joining their brothers to meet them and defend their newly crowned leader. Viviane would not speak first, leaving that instead to Morgana.

It took her several moments to weigh her options. She needed these men, needed to warn them of the Lord Death's dangerous machinations. He would be gunning for this little kingdom, now that he had done all in his power to help crumble the Roman Empire and gain more devastating power for himself.

"I am Morgana Fane, Lady Raven. Queen of the Gladiatorial ring, leader of the Ladies of Sarmatia, and I have brought us to fight with the last of our brothers, and to mourn those beloved dead." Morgana felt her sisters rallying behind her in support, though she knew Isolde was mourning hard, while Elaine was still fighting it - she would not want to believe Lancelot was dead. Viviane had already accepted it - they themselves had seen too much death to not have been half-expecting this somber news. "Behind me are my sisters, comrades in arms. Elaine, Lady Lion; Viviane, Lady Vixen, and Isolde, Lady Wolf."

"Women warriors? Of Sarmatian stock? Are we supposed to believe that -" the one called Galahad cried disdainfully.

"Is your memory so short, Galahad? Can you not recall another female warrior?" Guinevere muttered quietly, pain in her eyes at the mention of the obviously fallen female.

"You think just men made up our nation's cavalry? You have forgotten more of our history than I had thought. We are descendants of greatness! Of brave warriors of both sexes," Viviane snapped, ignoring the woman's hushed remark. "Warriors who battled in Troy, in Sparta and Athens, and then waged war against the overly complacent Empire."

"Viviane. Now is not the time to regale us with history lessons," Morgana sighed. Viviane nodded sharply, her eyes still glaring at the young knight. "We first must mourn our Brothers. Dagonet, Tristan, Lancelot -" Morgana felt Elaine's pained gasp at the mention of her beloved, and the clenching of her hand on Morgana's back. "And all of the others buried on that hill. We wish to do their lives proper homage."

Christian_ man," Morgana let her hand drift meaningfully to her sword. The younger knights, those with full heads of hair tensed behind him, and Morgana caught movement on the battlements._

* * *

!  
**_The Summers' Cottage_  
!**

Faith clenched at the 'oh-shit-bar' on the passenger side of the car. She was glaring at Lanyon as they finally pulled into the drive. The knight-turned-reporter remained oblivious to her glare.

"What's wrong?"

"A chick named Morgana tells you to beat feet to the cottage and you drive like its a damned Sunday drive with Miss Daisy. That's what's wrong with you," Faith snorted, popping the door open.

She could hear shouting from inside the house, and took off running. She'd made little D a promise and she didn't take them lightly. Not anymore. Faith stopped with a skid just inside the door to hear Buffy and Trevor bickering like teenagers. A smirk twisted up at the sight. B was up in Trevor's face, demanding to be told what was going on.

"Damn, B, I thought something bad was happening. I know Trevor is annoying as hell, but -"

"Thank god you're here!" Buffy whirled around to face the younger slayer. Faith let her eyes drop in a slow blink.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Faith demanded, catching the gaze of the two knights and the witch.

"Nothing! These idiot's wont tell me what's going on, and you've always been the bearer of bad news so go on. Bear it already," the blonde snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at her.

"Okay, first of all, fuck you. And secondly, I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Where is Dawn?" Willow asked gently.

"She, Artie, and Boris will be here in a bit. We've got to get the room over here cleaned up before they -" Lanyon started to say, joining the conversation as he entered the kitchen.

"You!" Buffy's eyes widened in shock as Lanyon caught sight of her.

"The crazy driver in Rome. How did - what are you doing here? Is - is your boyfriend with you?"

"Um, no. He doesn't know I'm here," Buffy blushed a bit at that admission.

"Wait - you two _know_ each other?" Willow frowned looking between the two of them.

"We met, in Rome."

After the moment of silence, Faith remembered what the woman at the hospice had said. She didn't want to tell B that her kid sister's baby-daddy was alive if not kicking. Buffy and Lanyon just looked at each other with a weird look on their faces.

"All right then, um Lanyon, you hash things out with B. We've got stuff to do."

Faith quickly outlined what had happened and explained what needed to get done. Buffy hadn't realized the foursome had left without answering her questions and leaving her with the man who had bumped into her in Rome.

* * *

!  
**_The Road to the Summers' Cottage_  
!**

Dawn found herself cramped in the back of the ambulance with Boris, Arthur and Miss Raven less than thirty minutes later. There was something familiar about her to the men, but neither could place it. Holding tightly onto Dagonet's hand, Dawn caught the gaze of the woman.

"Who are you?" popped out of her mouth the second the paramedic closed the doors behind him and made his way to the front of the vehicle.

"Morgana. I did cover this with the doctor," a sad smile kicked up at her lips before vanishing.

_"The_ Morgana?"

"Has there ever been another such as me?"

"You know what they say about you?" Dawn bit at her lip. Hadn't she learned that the recorded truth was different from the real truth? "Forget I said that. How did -"

"I was there, not long after we brought you back to this time," Morgana sighed. "We were on the heels of your visit. There were four of us, and I was the leader."

"Those crazy Sarmatian broads," Boris hissed in remembrance.

"You took offence at our teasing of your bride, Bors. Arthur -" Morgana's breath caught as she glanced at the once and future king. "Arthur felt guilty. I fear we did not help much then."

"So you remember your past life? Is that why you sought us out?" Dawn asked.

"Oh, sweetie, I sought you out because _I_ was the one to set everything into motion."

* * *

Europa looked between the angry visage of Ismene and the calm look of the dark haired woman beside her. The priest, the one whom her master had slain so long ago looked at her with a pitying glance. Europa sneered at them all, anger brewing heavy and thick in her veins.

"This where all the cool kids hang out, Doyle?"

Europa stiffened at the sound of that most dreaded voice. Her stupid little patsy of a partner. The other liaison. The Seer. And her predecessor, the half-blood demon. And the witch.

"Not the cool kids, but the players in our little game," Doyle laughed, giving the woman seated a quick bow. "My lady."

"Wow, Doyle, you got manners when you died."

"S-s-she's the high lady, t-the first of the seers," Tara stuttered, her eyes flicking over to the chained liaison.

"The most infamous, any way," a small smile curved on the woman's lips. Europa's stomach dropped as it hit her then. "Yes, I saw your fate, and each time no matter what he did you, you went back to him. Your children slain, your pride in tatters, and even with a full future ahead of you, you returned to Mordred, Uther's bastard son."

"Wait - what'd she say?"

* * *

Vi set the phone back in her pocket. Right now she was stuck in the kitchen with Garrett, Gwen and Jenna, while Joel and Felicia tried to get the younger kids up in bed. Everyone had gone on high alert back at the cottage, and Vi couldn't help but worry. It so could not be good.

"Everything all right?" Jenna asked quietly, obviously worrying about Boris.

"Dag's being moved to the house, but Willow was really weird about it."

"It's him then? Really him?" Garrett demanded, crowding in front of her as she leaned back against the counter.

"I just said that, didn't I?" Vi snapped, wincing even as she spoke. "Willow said Faith said some woman showed up at the Hospice and magically made them give up Dagonet. Faith and Lanyon hot-footed it back to the Cottage, but then Willow kind of trailed off."

"It's a good sign, though, right?" Gwen bit at her pinkie nail.

"I guess," Vi raked a hand through her hair before continuing. "Willow said to sit tight until we get summoned back."

Gwen and Jenna left them to go relay the message to Joel and Felicia, and the room got quiet again. Vi worried at her lip, trying not to look in Garrett's direction. Memories seeped through her mind at the most unexpected moments. Like the one of the stable, and the one in the room off of the hall with the Round Table. Her hands shook as she scooted past him.

"Dammit, Viviane, stopped fidgeting!" Garrett snapped, his hand landing heavily on her shoulder.

Vi didn't even stop to think. Using her smaller size and greater strength, she yanked him forward, propelling the knight onto his stomach upon the kitchen floor. She dropped heavily on his lower back, her bottom resting just above his hips and yanked his head back with a fistful of his silky, curly hair. Her hand groped for her thigh holster and the Sarmatian dagger that Idras had fashioned for her when she entered into the temple for her training at age seven. She would slit this knave's throat for daring to touch a priestess of the Goddess of the Hunt. But her hand hit well-worn denim and she faltered, her grip loosening. Gala - _Garrett_ took advantage of her distraction and bucked his hips up, knocking her hard onto her back. Her breath rushed out with an oof, and suddenly he was straddling her hips, his hands yanking her arms high above her head and pining them to the ground.

Vi's eyes widened in shock, even as she braced her feet on the ground to jerk her hips up against him, hoping to dislodge him just as he had unseated her. Garrett's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he bore down on her, keeping her pinned. She whimpered, her body going lax trying to tell him that the momentary insanity had passed.

"We cannot keep dancing around this, Viviane," Garrett muttered, his face lowering inches from her own.

"The name is Vi. Not _Viviane_, and I will cut you if you keep calling me that. I'm not _her_."

"Funny how you know exactly what I'm talking about, all while claiming you don't remember."

"Stop it, Garrett. Please. I've got one destiny, and it is not to be tangled up in Arthur and his court! I'm not that vital." Vi shifted her face away from him, her eyes closing on the bad memories of what happened back then. Over and over again, she could only see them dying. Some in her arms, others at her own hand. And what had killed her.

"You're not vital? Then why are you in the thick of things?" Garrett growled - honest to goodness, growled at her before pushing himself away from her and slamming out the back door.

Vi shook at the loss of his presence and at the resurgance of memories. Not even bothering to lift herself from the ground, she pulled her body back against the cabinet and let tears race down her cheeks. An hour had passed , pitching the room into shadows before she realized Garrett hadn't come back yet. Fear pumped through her as she dragged herself off the floor. She couldn't fail Dawnie. Garrett was important to the cause.

* * *

Every light was on in the cottage as the sun started to sink below the horizon. Faith and Willow directed the paramedics to the room that was already set up with the equipment necessary to keep Dag alive. The techs that Morgana had arranged to arrive before them had showed the four of them how to maintain and work the machines. Once he was safely placed in the room, Dawn finally made her way into the large kitchen. Almost everyone was there, except Vi, Garrett and Jenna, who were still at Joel and Felicias house. Gwen had come back a few minutes ago, and had arrived to the full kitchen.

"Dawn! What's going on here?"

Dawn's head jerked up to see her sister sitting next to Lanyon. A little too closely. A frown tugged at her lips as she looked back and forth between the two of them. What was Buffy doing here?

"I came to take care of you," Buffy frowned at her. "I was wrong to get so mad at you over picking the PtB's side -"

"It's not about a side, Buffy," Dawn shook her head, not wanting to get in this fight. Again.

"I know. I just didn't get it." Her sister took a deep sigh before going on. "Lanyon told me that you found him. Your - knight."

"Not just him. Although, I did find her first, slayer," Morgana slipped into the kitchen, just behind her.

Buffy and Lanyon both stared at her like they were seeing a ghost. The others who hadn't seen her at the hospice stared at her. Dawn only sighed and sat down heavily in the chair. Whatever news Morgana had for them, she was sure she didn't have the strength left to stand up to listen to it.

"Hey, you're the cab driver that left Lanyon outside my place in Rome!"

"The crazy Italian girl who couldn't drive!" Lanyon's mouth tipped up in a grin.

"Sister?"


	19. 18: Weight of the World

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary: Because, sometimes even sisters have to decide if it's best to just part ways, or tighten the bonds that made them.  
A/N: I can't remember if they buried or burned Tristan, so we're going with buried. Also, there is only one more part to this story.

_18. Weight of the World_

*****  
_How strange that he who'd told her he would die for nothing would now be willing to give his life for hers.  
- __**Knight of Darkness, **_**Kinley MacGregor**_**  
**_*****

*****  
_**Summers Cottage, 2005**_  
*****

Morgana looked over at the woman she'd helped bring to ruin over 1,600 years before. Still her heart hurt at the very sight of the girl. And that was what she was - a young girl who'd been drawn back into the life of these warriors. Morgana shook her head at that thought and took in the sight of them. Two of her fellow warriors were before her, giving her odd looks, and the men that had been destroyed by her enemies looked tense. Except for those who'd been long gone before she and small band had even arrived at the Roman fort. Trevor and Lanyon stared blankly at her, seeing and unseeing at the same time.

"Sister?" Dawn frowned back at her, her eyes going to Gwen's shocked face before flicking over to Arthur.

"Long story short," Morgana sighed, "Is that everything you know is wrong. But it is a tale I cannot share until all the knights are gathered, and the others as well. And definitely not until Dagonet is settled peacefully in his bed. There is something I need to speak to Dawn about alone. And I'll need that necklace from you, Buffy."

"Why? Everyone is freaking out about the Immortal's gift to me, and no one is bothering to explain to me why," the slayer's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. "Who are _you_?"

"Morgana Raven. Morgan Le Fay. However you wish to word it, I am she. The great witch, the evil seductress, the incestuous bitch. I've heard them ten-fold over the centuries," Morgana shook her head, her dark curls hiding her eyes from sight. "The bed should be set up, gentlemen. In that back room over there."

She strode forward to Buffy's side, her hand outstretched for the necklace. Buffy reeled back, open hostility on her face. Morgana smiled softly, as if she knew the reason why Buffy distrusted her so much.

"I have made good on my promise, little lioness. He is restored to your side once again, be at peace."

Dawn frowned at this, watching as a serene look passed over Buffy's face. To be honest, she hadn't seen her sister look like that since Sunnydale had collapsed in on itself after they squashed the First.

"We should all rest. We'll discuss it on the morrow when all are finally in attendance."

Dawn expected some kind of outcry at this, but instead all of the knights and the women nodded. She seemed to be the only one actually freaking out a bit at the high-handedness of Morgana. She opened her mouth to say something, but caught the subtle wink the witch/Power sent her way.

"Come, they've settled him in," she nodded to the room the medical technicians were leaving.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Dawnie," Buffy murmured distractedly, following Faith from the room.

Dawn stared at her sister, baffled that Buffy had even shown up in the first place. She hurried after Morgana, not sure if she wanted to leave Dagonet undefended with the infamous woman for long.

"He's safe enough with me," Morgana replied as soon as the door was shut behind her. "I've spent sixteen hundred years keeping him safe for you. I'm not about to harm him in any way now that the two of you are reunited."

"What was that back there? They went from hostile to docile in three second flat."

"2.47 seconds, a new record for me, actually," Morgana smiled.

"What are you?" Dawn sat down quickly beside the still form of her lover.

"A Power, one of two children born of two Powers who hold court over all that has been and will be in our little corner of this dimension," Morgana sighed, sitting in a comfy looking rocker that Dawn had never seen before today.

"Huh?"

"You heard Gwen call me sister back in there, yes?"

"Yeah, but it didn't make any sense."

"We were not raised as sisters, Guinevere and I. We were in our forties and had become bitter enemies before we even learned of our kinship. We were fraternal twins."

"What? Then _Merlin_ was your father?" Dawn shook her head.

"Yes. Obviously, you knew him as a powerless mortal and a leader of the Woads. He didn't come into his Powers until after his death, only five years after the Battle on Badon Hill."

"Five years?"

"He was killed alongside his granddaughter, Elspeth."

"Arthur's daughter," Dawn's hands clenched at her stomach. It would have destroyed Guinevere and Arthur to lose both an ally, father, and child. "I thought Arthur never had any children besides Mordred."

"Arthur fathered Guinevere's children. He never sired any _legitimate_ male children with her. And before you even mention Mordred being my son, you already know that is untrue. Mordred was the bastard get of _Uther_, not Arthur."

"I don't understand," Dawn rubbed tiredly at her eyes.

"Rest, and all will be revealed."

*****  
_**The Old Roman Fort, 468**_  
*****

_Morgana was determined to see her sisters through this. She could not let this final blow destroy them at any cost. Viviane was the nearest to her, and in truth the only sanity left to her. Isolde and Elaine were devastated with the loss. Already the once fierce warrior known as the Lady Wolf had drawn in on herself. Morgana squared her shoulders and addressed their leader once more._

"_Have the rites been issued? The bodies properly set to rest?"_

"_I cannot answer that truthfully that they have, at least by your standards, Lady Raven," Arthur looked away, but only for a moment. "We buried Dagonet, at the bequest of his lady. Lancelot - he asked to be burned."_

"_And Tristan?"_

"_He was buried as well, as he had no care either way."_

"_He had no care, or you never cared to ask?" Morgana leveled her gaze on him._

"_I never had conversations with my men on the matter of their untimely deaths. I only know of Lancelot's preference because he told me of it," Arthur's eyes flicked over to Elaine. "Your companion, she knew him well?"_

"_The three of us grew up together," Morgana nodded briefly. "They died free men?"_

"_Yes. All of them, of their own choosing."_

"_No man chooses his own death," Elaine's eyes burned brightly at she glared up at Arthur._

"_Still your tongue, sister," Morgana hissed back at her. "We will wish to perform the rights for our fallen brothers. Viviane was trained to ease their spirits homewards."_

"_Then my men and I thank you for this gift," Arthur dipped his head in Viviane's direction. "Have you shelter for the night?"_

"_We have not."_

"_Jols," Arthur nodded to the fair-haired Briton that stood behind the Knights. "Please see that these ladies are given comfortable quarters for their stay."_

*****  
_**Summers Cottage**_  
*****

Morgana stared blankly out as the sun crept up over the hills she remembered so well from her last venture here. Things had been amazingly complicated back then. The four of them had been running purely on fear and falsehoods. How much had they ruined their chances at happiness simply because they'd been stunningly uninformed? She glanced over her shoulder at the resting Dawn. She hadn't truly slept. She'd dozed, and now her eyes blinked open, the question forming on her lips.

"I was born on the cold road back to Sarmatia," Morgana said quietly, returning her eyes back to the rising sun. "My mother had been a camp follower of her generation's worth of warriors indebted to Rome's greed. At least, that is what my adoptive family always told me. I was an old woman before I realized who my mother truly was. She had followed warriors from the south to Hadrian's wall. I was raised as a Sarmatian woman, but I was never of Sarmatian blood. My father was Merlin, and my mother was called Cassia back then. Her true name was Kassandra.

Somewhere along the journey back to Sarmatia, my mother gave birth to Guinevere and myself. I never learned why she chose to journey to Sarmatia, and to be honest I never asked. Either way, it didn't matter. She never arrived and neither did my twin. She handed me to a warrior and took Guinevere away. The warrior took me in his possession, and he and his wife reared me as their own. Within a twelvemonth, their first child was born, a beautiful blonde girl they named Elaine."

Dawn sat up, her hand twining around Dagonet's. The younger woman didn't speak, and Morgana spared her a glance before smiling sadly and resuming her tail.

"Elaine and I grew up in the same village as Lancelot, and even as a girl, she pined dearly for him. Of course, I knew that he too would be taken by the Romans as our father and his own had been. They passed through our humble village every year, testing to see if the warriors had produced viable male heirs to take and train. It stung and it burned, and the injury of our peoples' loss was never allowed to heal over. That's what happens when an entire nation is oppressed, and none did it better than Rome.

It tore Elaine apart the year they came for Lancelot. She loved that boy so badly that it poisoned every other love she could have ever had. You see, the funny thing is that the storybooks got it wrong. It was never about Lancelot, Guinevere and Arthur. And the girl of interest that they overlooked? It was always Elaine."

"What does this have to do with the knights? If it wasn't about the triangle, what was it about?" Dawn murmured.

"You've heard of the Trojan war?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Of all our illustrious couples here, who do you think is Helen?" Morgana said quietly, blinking in the oncoming sunlight.

"Gwen?"

"No, she was Andromache," Morgana smiled. "To Arthur's Hector."

"And you were Helen."

"Thank the gods, no. I did not feature in the first go-around. Neither did Dagonet. Neither did you. All of this has _happened before_. That is why it is happening again. Thousands of years, and they've still fucked it up," Morgana sighed. "Everyone in this house, and in that house over the hill have been reincarnated. Most of them are on their third and final time, Dawn. There's a child that needs to be conceived, and one of those pairs out there must do it before the next solstice."

"So all of this, reincarnation business is basically to get somebody pregnant?" Dawn frowned. "Uh, hello, you already got _me_ knocked up."

"The child of Paris and Helen. The child that never got a chance to bring peace to two warring factions must be conceived," Morgana sighed. "Because if Mordred plants his seed within her, he will spawn the ultimate destroyer."

"Wait, isn't that what they call Connor?"

*****  
_**Sarmatia, The Ruins, 468**_  
*****

_The small dark haired boy huddled in fear beneath the stones of the old Amazonian outpost. When he closed his eyes, he could see the brave lady warrior battling off the Roman scum. He was too small to understand what Roman scum meant, but he'd seen the elders spit and cross themselves oddly at the mention of them. Now he hid, as his nurse had instructed him to do whenever the scum should arrive. He stuck a thumb into his mouth and watched as a man in forgein armor shook his nurse._

"_That witch did not pay you enough to die for her bastard!" her mean-eyed daughter screamed as she fought the guards. "Tell them where you hid that brat!"_

"_Shut your mouth, Katya," Nurse spat back at her._

"_He's in the ruins, milord!" Katya screamed. "Take him and leave us in peace!"_

"_Lady Raven left a_ boy child _with you?" the frightening man shook Nurse again._

"_My daughter is ill. She speaks in tongues. She imagines a boy here. The Romans have taken our boys has payment for our insolence. We have no boys."_

"_Is that so?" He spun on Katya. "Then such illness must be struck out of the populace."_

_His blade jerked into Katya's stomach, and the child had to look away. Nurse didn't even flinch. There had been much discord between the two, but if she did not thank the Roman for ridding her of her daughter's illness, she'd suffer even worse._

"_Thank you, milord, for sending her onwards to God," Nurse whispered._

"_Oh, you'll thank me again in a moment. The Raven's_ son _is hidden in the ruins."_

"_There is no child in the ruins, milord. My daughter was ill -"_

"_You see, the witch known as the Raven, stole_ my son _from me, shortly after she cursed my future bride. She was heavy with my son and the Raven took my boy from his rightful mother's womb."_

"_No witchery could have accomplished that," Nurse spoke without thought._

"_You have personal knowledge of such witchery."_

"_N-no."_

"_The Raven stole _my son_. And you wish to conceal my son from me. That, my dear woman is punishable by Death."_

_Without even cleaning his blade, he ripped it from Katya and plunged it into her mother's chest. Nurse grasped at the blade, tried desperately to knock it out, but as the life drained from her body so too did her motions. The child whimpered, tears slipping down his cheeks furiously as he watched his Nurse die protecting him._

"_Search the Ruins. My son is hidden somewhere here. You two, burn these witches and clean my blade of their filth."_

*****  
_**Summers Cottage**_  
*****

"And Mordred, is he real?"

"That bastard is more than real. He's the reason we've had three goes at this already," Morgana sighed.

"He's -"

"Helen's husband."

"So, he's not your kid?" Dawn asked quietly.

"No more than Arthur is my brother. But I do - _did_ have a son by him," Morgana looked over at her. "His name was Andros, named for my long dead brother. Though, I did not know that when I named him that I was honoring the dead."

"_You _had Arthur's heir?"

"No. I had _Mordred's_ heir," Morgana's voice shook. "That is what the myths got right. Mordred blamed me for the deaths of his three children - Jessamina, Felix and Tiberius. The girl and eldest boy he offered up to master vampires in exchange for finding Elaine. Tiberius - the boy died in his mother's womb. She'd been a noblewoman Mordred seduced for her money. _Europa_ caused her to miscarry."

"The liaison, Europa?" Dawn gawked at her.

"She was the mother of Jessamina and Felix."

"I - I don't understand," Dawn pressed a hand more tightly to her abdomen. This talk of dead children was upsetting her.

"Mordred is much like I in the fact that he never left this realm, he wasn't reincarnated like the knights."

"He's a Power?"

"No. Mordred is the Immortal and he's been striving to poison Buffy against you from the very start."

"Because Buffy is Helen/Elaine," Dawn frowned. "Of course she is."

*****  
_**The Old Roman Fort, 468**_  
*****

_Three days after their arrival, two of the Sarmatian ladies donned black mourning tunics as they sat upon the sad little hilltop cemetery their countrymen now rested in. Viviane, as acting priestess, wore the white gown of purification. Morgana did as well, to balance the numbers out. Isolde, of course, wore the black. As did the sobbing Elaine. She had not stopped for the last day. She either sobbed or glared at Morgana._

_Viviane chanted, pouring water and earth atop each grave. At the conclusion, the two figures in white sat beside the too quiet Isolde. Elaine had wanted nothing to do with any of them. Isolde bade them to leave, needing to say her good-byes to betrothed in private._

"_It's as if they are two different people," Viviane said quietly as they left the graveyard._

"_Isolde will hold her anger and her pain within her breast for the rest of her life. That is her nature, it always has been," Morgana frowned._

"_Do you fear it will make her lash out?"_

"_No. Isolde's anger will only be unleashed upon herself. No. I fear Elaine's more than I do Isolde's."_

"_Must you always look for the dark inside of Elaine?" Viviane sighed._

"Elaine _has nothing to mourn! There was no understand between the two. They were but children! Isolde and Tristan were_ days _away from their betrothal."_

"_Love can be very different for different people," Viviane argued. "And their pain can be as equally different."_

"_The pain they will bring on us, will be very different," Morgana insisted._

"_You can't suggest -"_

"_Who will she hate the most, now that her beloved Lancelot is forever stripped of her?" Morgana silenced her._

"_You."_

"_Yes. She's blamed me all along."_

*****  
_**Summers Cottage**_  
*****

Morgana stared out at the sun. It was time. They all needed to know. Not just Dawn, not just her former sisters. And definitely not just the former knights. It had started once. It must truly start again. And yet…

"I'll leave you two alone for a few moments. Take as much time as you both need, and then come to us upon in the clearing."

"Both?"

"I can give you at least this. This is what you've so patiently waited for," Morgana smiled at her as she stood at the doorway. "There is someone I must fetch."

Dawn set her head down on Dag's chest, content to hear his heart beat steadily as Morgana slipped from the room. She could be content with this - he was _alive_. He was here. He was -

"Truly, I could not wait for her to leave us in peace if but for a moment," the chest beneath her cheek rumbled.

Dawn jerked upright, her mouth hanging open as the smile she so longed to see grinned up at her. Dag gently pushed himself upright and cupped her face in one giant hand. Her mouth quivered and her eyes blurred.

"Oh god, if this is just another weird dream she gave me, I'm gonna gank that Power," Dawn murmured.

"'Tis no dream, milady," Dag smiled brightly. "I am restored to you. And to our child."

"But they said -"

"Europa lies. A lot," Dag pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I would not put much stock into the lies she's spewed from her mouth."


	20. 19: And This is How It Ends

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: PG-13 - R  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary: Waking up to surprises.  
A/N: Second to last part in the epic that is Sarmartian Ladies. (I lied. I forgot about the Epilogue). Also? The Problem with this story (in the terms of _writing_ it) is that it's so damn long. I forget what loopholes and side stories I've actually written about it. Also, it borrows mythology from _everywhere_.  
And in apropos to nothing: All of the cast of KA have been in kid movies _except_ for Clive Owen (that I've seen). And Ray Stevenson _seriously_ needs to stop playing the villains. Also: for your Tristan/Dagonet/Cynric (Ebil Saxon son) goodness watch _The Three Musketeers_. (It came out on DVD the night I finished up chapter 18, and I squee-d like a 5 year old when I saw them all.)

_19. And This Is How It Ends…_

*****  
_They looked up at the towering knight in awe, and she saw him suddenly from their perspective. No longer the wounded soldier, she saw him for what he was: a brave, just and powerful knight of King Arthur's court. One day he and his fellow men-at-arms would be the stuff of legends, but now he was very much a man. And he would be hers alone, at least for a few days.  
- "__**Man in the Mirror", Charmed, **_**Julie Beard**_**  
**_*****

*****  
_**Higher Planes, 2005**_  
*****

She would give them these tender moments together, and she would fetch Percy - _Sir Percival _- and reunite the first of the Other Knights to the core. Those who had fought the Saxons. Morgana took and edifying breath and let her powers return her to Kassandra's side.

Europa was caged, and Ismene stood serenely beside her Pelagius. Morgana smiled sadly at her old mentors and friends. And then her gaze landed on her young son in his grandmother's arms.

"Jessamina and Felix have been reborn," Morgana said quietly, her voice carrying to Europa. The Liaison's entire body stiffened at the mention of her long lost children. "To parents who are far more deserving of such pure-hearted children."

"The Roman bitch and the Briton serf?" Europa's voice cracked, betraying her anger for sadness.

"Fulcina and Jols, yes."

"They also care for Elspeth?" Ismene asked, smiling from beside Pelagius.

"Yes. It would be too harsh to have her returned to Arthur and Gwen," Morgana nodded. "Tiberius will take her place, and Igraine the younger will retain her birth order."

"You plot out the children that may not yet be born?" Europa snarled. "You are an idiot, as I've always suspected."

"I restore your murdered children, and you call _me_ the idiot? Do you not realize that you destroyed important timelines in your bid to please Mordred? You ruined empires and worlds at the click of his fingers -"

"And you are the great _Restorer_."

"No, I mind the balance. The third time can not be faulted. All must live, and all must serve their purpose."

"Even the recently dead."

Kassandra glanced up from where she held her grandson. Morgana had been more than happy to give her mother time with the child. Kassandra had not been a mother for nearly 1,600 years. Beside her, a younger man stood with a frown on his face.

"You've managed to wrest Gaheris from the other Powers?" Morgana cocked her head at the man.

"Yes, _Gaheris_ has been restored," Kassandra's voice shook. "I would not return him so soon to the fold. At least not until the barmaid has had ample time to reconnect with Gawain."

"You think Gaheris presents a roadblock to their union?" Morgana stared at the dark haired man. He and Willow _had _known each other in the distant and recent past.

"She will remember him as her _first_," Kassandra shrugged.

"But dear Wesley has a certain blue companion who will feel his return the moment he sets foot on the plane. Illyria will provide enough _distraction_. At least more than Willow," Merlin countered, emerging from the darkened recess of the room.

"Has enough time passed, Kassandra? Shall Percy, Wesley and Morgana return to the Wall?" Ismene cleared her throat.

"I still don't understand what any of this is about!" Percy muttered from his seat beside Kassandra.

"Have you cleared Wesley's mind, Mother?" Morgana frowned.

"I have. You may inform your knight, child."

"I'll make this as painless as I can," she smiled brightly at Percy, pressing her lips to his forehead.

*****  
_**Summers' Cottage, 2005**_  
*****

"If I'm sleeping again, I _really_ do not want to wake up," Dawn cried, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "It's really you?"

"Yes, it's really me. I am sorry you've had to go through this all alone. I would have given my life to be beside you sooner."

"Nuh-uh, you will not be giving your life for anything ever again, do you hear me? First rule: Don't die. Think you can follow that?" Dawn laughed, burying her head beneath his chin. "Gods, I missed you."

"Dawnie, is that freak of nature Morgana still - _holy crap!_" Buffy squawked as she burst through the doors to Dag's room. "He's awake?"

"Lady Buffy, we've not met, but I believe you once called me the 'rat-bastard who knocked our Dawnie up'," Dagonet chuckled.

"Call him Dag, Buff. Morgana woke him for me," Dawn glanced up at her sister, who surprisingly had tears in her eyes.

"I - I'll let you guys - I'm happy for you, Dawnie," Buffy stumbled back against the door in her hasty retreat.

Buffy found herself stumbling back into Lanyon as she left the happy couple in peace. He caught her securely around the shoulders and - god, it felt _right_.

"Are you okay?" Lanyon frowned at her.

"Being happy that she's happy and whole should be enough to feel this way, right?" Buffy murmured. "Because I've _never_ seen her this happy and that's all I've ever wanted for her."

"You're speaking in riddles, Buffy. I'm not following you," Lanyon eased her away from the door.

"I'm supposed to be happy for her, but part of me is jealous, you know? Like 'oh, and where's my happiness?' Where's my cookie-me? Why does Dawnie get to be happy and -" Her breath came in deep, panicked bouts. Images of a little dark haired boy, and an equally little blonde haired girl running through the fields of tall grass slapped at her memory, overlapping like flipbook images. "I just want to be happy."

"Hey, what's brought this about?" Lanyon wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a deep embrace. His scent slipped over her, calming the anxiety beating at her.

"I _never_ feel calm around him. He sets me at edge, and I've been on edge since I was fifteen. He suffocates me, _always_ suffocating me. He told me I didn't need to be here for Dawnie. That I didn't need to live my life protecting her. How could I believe that lie?"

"Because part of you wanted to escape," Lanyon smoothed his hand down her back.

Buffy stared at him for several long moments. There. The mirror was firmly pressed up against her. She had wanted to escape. Escape it all and be free. But that freedom had cost her so much. She'd lost the trust of her sister. She'd let Dawn falter and fall and she could have lost her only family. The Immortal wasn't worth that. She'd break normal boys, she'd had to sacrifice those boys who were _more_. But she'd never felt at ease with any of them. Not like she had with Lanyon, now in this very moment.

"I need to run."

Buffy pulled away from him, dashing to the kitchen door and raced out into the rising sunlight. Part of her heart pumped harder when she heard him give chase.

* * *

Faith watched from the balcony, staring out into the sunlight as she watched Buffy and Lanyon race out into the fields. What the hell was up with that? Shaking her head, she stepped back inside and left the safety of her room. Willow was rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she entered the kitchen a few steps behind her.

"Morning," Willow muttered.

"Your girl went on a nature run," Faith grinned at her.

"Which one?" Willow asked. "Have you checked on Dawnie yet?"

"Nope," Faith glanced over at her doorway. "But B went out that door with Lanyon."

"Why?"

"Like I have a clue?" Faith shrugged. "You hear from Vi last night?"

"Yeah, said she and Garrett would be over about nowish, and that the Hollis' family would come over at about eleven."

"They big players?" Faith asked.

"Felicia and her brother Alec were the Romans the knights had to save, while Joel was their man-of-arms, and the little boy, Lucas was the child Dagonet saved," Willow sighed. "Not Knights, but someone felt they were important enough to connect to the knights in this time frame."

"Like Morgana?" Faith snorted. "She for real?"

"She's on our side, apparently. I - I honestly don't know what to think."

"She got us killed before," Gavin huffed from the doorway.

"Got you killed, pup. I was already dead," Trevor pushed him through the doorway. "Who's making breakfast? Anyone checked on the girl yet?"

"Wow, that's the most I've _ever_ heard you say," Willow blinked owlishly at Trevor.

"Not it for cooking."

"I nominate you, mate," Gavin clapped him on the shoulder.

"You little -" Trevor grumbled as he turned to the fridge. A frown slipped over his lips. "You seen this?"

"Seen what, T?" Faith glanced over at him.

"This note?"

*****  
_**The Roman Fort, 468**_  
*****

_Morgana breathed deeply of the cool morning air. Isolde sat along one of the walls, ignoring the Briton guard eyeing her with distaste as she continued to sharpen her blade. Most of the Roman legion had returned with the Bishop's hasty retreat to Rome. But a few of the legionnaires had been granted their freedom and had chosen to serve as free men under Arthur. It was a mark of the man her countrymen had served under. _

"_Thank you for giving the fallen knights their most deserved rites," Arthur said from behind her. "How fares the lady Wolf this day?"_

"_She can never take the words back that she spat in his face the day he was conscripted as a boy. She can never know how he lived as a man. Nor if they would suit. She may fool you, Arthur, but she is grieving," Morgana said tightly. "He died for a cause?"_

"_To save the people from Saxon rule."_

"_The Saxon are ripping Rome to shreds everywhere. They will find a foothold in Briton sooner or later," Morgana shrugged. "Seems a worthwhile cause to die for."_

"_I can never, Lady Raven. Do you condemn or praise our cause?"_

"_I cannot bring myself to praise it, not when I see what pain and ruin it's brought to us all," Morgana took a deep breath. "But I can not condemn, not when my own people have been brutally slaughtered by the Saxons as well."_

"_What?"_

"_Sarmatia is no more," Morgana said quietly. "The tribes have been slaughtered to number in less than possibly a hundred. My sisters and your men here, we are all that remain of Sarmatia. We have no home, and no true freedom to sustain us."_

"_Then you must remain here. In our protection."_

_Morgana's head jerked up to frown at the leader of her countrymen. Had she heard him properly? True, she'd not plotted farther than getting her small band to the wall. But to stay here? In the lands she and her people had been trained to fear banishment to for more years than she could mark? _

"_I will bring the offer to my warriors. I cannot say if we will take it, but," Morgana gave him a small smile. "I do thank you for the offer."_

"_It is the least I can do. It is what I could not do for my brothers."_

*****  
_**2005**_  
*****

Arthur had heard the door shut to the kitchen twice now. He blinked his eyes open and stared down at where Gwen was curled into his side. It felt _right_. And awkward at the same time. She stirred against him as she woke from her own sleep. A frown marred her face as she glanced up at him.

"What happened?"

"Morgana. I think she bewitched us a little," Arthur sighed. "Not that we all didn't need a little calming down last night."

"Lancelot - _Lanyon_ being here, finding Dag, Buffy showing up. It's all a little daunting," Gwen smiled.

"She looks familiar."

"Morgana?"

"No - well, _yes_. But I was talking about Buffy."

"Well, she is Dawn's sister."

"But they don't look very much alike."

"Lanyon knew her. Maybe we knew her back then."

"That's a possibility," Arthur nodded. "Maybe we should see who went outside. And check on Dawn."

"Oh, god, she's been alone with him all night!" Gwen's eyes darkened. "It's almost worse, having him but _not_ having him."

"I think anything's bound to be better than him not being here at all," Arthur stretched and opened the door, leading the way to the kitchen. "Better to have some hope than to have none at all."

"Hope is a cold comfort to what they shared," Gwen chewed at her lip.

They stared into the empty kitchen. A few plates were stacked on the counter and the bread had been set out. The kettle sat in the sink and a sticky note was taped to the faucet. Arthur frowned at it and quickly handed it to Gwen.

"What now?" she muttered as the headed out the door.

*****  
_**The Roman Fort, 468**_  
*****

_Isolde would not speak. Not that she had ever been overly communicative before the death of Tristan. She would not eat either, and that was worrisome. All she did was sharpen her dagger on the wall, her eyes trained on his grave. _

"_Apologize to his spirit. Get your peace that way," a voice said quietly from beside her._

_The blonde knight crouched down to her. Isolde watched him, much like the bird Tristan had prized used to do. He'd freed his bird before his death, and none had set eyes on the creature since then._

"_Do I deserve that peace, knowing he has none?" Isolde cocked her head to the side. "You mean well, I am sure. But you know little of this topic, so hold your tongue, boy."_

"_I don't know grief? Of words left unsaid, or of those said in haste?" Gawain pushed away from her. "You've not been here long enough to know that we all bear those regrets, milady."_

"_I cursed him to die at his precious wall," Isolde said quietly. "I saw his end."_

* * *

"_She's touched," Galahad said drunkenly, glancing at where the red-haired warrior woman stood beside the bar, fetching drinks for her sisters._

"_Which one?" Gawain asked bitterly._

"_The blonde one weeps to no end," Wilhelmina muttered, setting a fresh pint in front of Gawain. "She wept through the night, until the leader threatened to bind her mouth."_

"_They stayed near your quarters?" Gawain frowned._

"_Aye," Wilhelmina nodded, taking her tray back. "And likely will, until Arthur offers them better quarters."_

"_Better quarters?" Galahad sputtered. "Whatever for?"_

"_Assuaging his guilt," Gawain cursed._

"_For what?"_

"_The dark one was Tristan's intended," Gawain glanced up at the wall. "And the weeper was fond of Lancelot."_

"_What female _wasn't_?" Wilhelmina scoffed, twitching her skirts and heading back to the bar._

"_Lady Dawn," Gawain murmured._

"_Only female with a working mind," Galahad said quietly._

"_Even if she was part Woad."_

*****  
_**2005**_  
*****

"Hello? Any one up?" Vi poked her head in through the kitchen doorway.

The kitchen was eerily empty. At least for this time of day and especially considering everything that had happened the night before. The message she and Garrett had gotten had been for them to come home at seven and have a mini-powwow before breaking everything to the civilian contingent. Also known as the Hollis family.

"Will you just go inside already?" Garrett muttered from behind her.

"Do I know if it's safe to enter? No. So I make a cautious - ack!" Vi stumbled over her feet as Garrett shoved her inside the door. "Jackass."

"Look, it's perfectly safe. Go find Dawn."

"I don't know how they did it in 'knightly' times, but we here in slayer time proceed with extreme caution. At all times -"

"Extremely _loud_ caution?" Boris chuckled from the doorway. He glanced over at the door to Dag's room. "You seen them yet?"

"It is him? Really him?" Vi bit her lip. "Dawnie…"

"Better go in to see her now," Boris cleared his throat and pushed the door open.

*****  
_**The Roman Fort, 468**_  
*****

_Elaine sat silently, her eyes red and her hair windblown on her perch beside Isolde. Viviane glanced out over the horizon before she noticed Morgana coming up beside them. Elaine glared at her approach, and Morgana felt the cut deeply as her sister turned away from her._

"_Arthur spoke to me this morning," Morgana squinted as she stared out at the landscape. "He's offered us a place amongst his people."_

"_As his _whores_?" Elaine spat._

"_No, Elaine," Morgana snapped at her, beyond done with her insolence. "As his men's kinsfolk. Places where we can be free. A place for us to heal all that we have been through."_

"_Because of_ Rome."

"_Arthur no longer stands for Rome. He stands for his people here. He stands for the last Sarmatians. He stands for the Britons. He stands for hope," Morgana said quietly. "We were drawn here for a reason -"_

"_Yes, and those reasons lie in cold graves!" Elaine snapped to her feet. "Cold comfort we have."_

"_Elaine, Lancelot was lost to you long before he died on the field of battle," Morgana stepped in front of her. "I do not know how to appease your anger, nor will I try to. What is done is done. We must move forward or die as the whipped pets of the Empire."_

"_It feels a bit like home here," Viviane breathed deeply, turning to Isolde. "I would not mind being settled for a while."_

"Of course _you would!" Elaine sneered. "Morgana has deemed it to be, so Viviane must grovel to her mistress's bidding."_

"_We can't go back to Sarmatia," Isolde said quietly, her knife poised on the edge of the whetstone she sharpened it on. "I would not mind the rest. What say you, Elaine?"_

"_Aye," Elaine ground out. "Let's do stay."_

_Elaine stormed off, ignoring the curious stares she got. Viviane sighed deeply before turning to follow and comfort her. Morgana rubbed her temples as she weighed the pros and cons of this new development. Isolde continued to sharpen her blade._

"_Elaine will cause trouble," Isolde said quietly, speaking more than she had in the last few days. "I would keep an eye on her."_

"_Funnily enough, Viviane said the same about you, sister," Morgana sighed._

"_We are very different," Isolde smiled softly. "I have nothing to live for, Elaine still has her vengeance."_

_A chill skirted up Morgana's back as Isolde rose from her mourning vigil. Isolde had said that her words carried heavy meaning once. It was very easy to believe that they carried a foreboding weight now. And Morgana fear that it would destroy whatever peace they could find here in Arthur's court._

*****  
_**2005**_  
*****

"Look who comes to call," Dagonet whispered against her ear as the door creaked open.

Dawn smiled up at Vi, Garrett and Boris, who all gaped at the giant of a man in bed beside her. Vi was looking through him, as if she knew him before. Boris' eyes were tearing up, and Garrett looked dumfounded.

"Bors, Galahad and little Viviane," Dagonet grinned up at them, pushing himself upright again.

"Viviane?" Dawn's head whipped around. "Say what?"

"She was a tiny little thing that grew up in my village. She was marked to be a priestess of the goddess. And she was a clumsy tyke," Dagonet stretched out a hand to Boris. "Brother."

"How -"

"Morgana, she woke him up and oh - what time is it?" Dawn frowned. "Can you make it to the clearing?"

"Clearing? What bloody clearing?" Boris seemed to find his tongue finally.

"Post-it note," Vi muttered, pulling something off of Boris' back. "Clearing just over the hill. Move yer arse, Bors."

"What?" Boris glared at her.

"I'm reading the note!" Vi stuck it in his face.

"Can you help him to his feet?" Dawn asked, swinging her legs back over the edge of the bed. "The Chaste, come help me. Vi and Boris, you're on Dag duty."

"I can still use my legs, lady," Dagonet chuckled, easing his own legs over.

"You've been comatose for five months, brother," Boris said gruffly as Garrett helped Dawn to the doorway. "And it's Boris in this lifetime."

"I know," Dagonet grinned at him.

Dagonet's footing was a little rough. And he still wore hospital garb. Which could prove a little difficult, but he still walked well for a man who'd been in a coma for five months. His ears reddened a bit when Boris commented on it.

"_Someone_ ordered that I have therapy so my limbs didn't atrophy."

"Morgana," Dawn shook her head. "The scrub pants should be fine, but we need to put a sweater on him."

"And on you, milady," Dagonet smiled at her. "You've got our babe to protect."

"That I do," Dawn grinned.

"This is the weirdest thing I have ever heard," Vi muttered.

"You once believed that kittens grew out of dandelions," Dagonet chuckled.

"How did you know that?" Vi's head snapped up at him as he leaned against her.

"Because I told you it was so, Viviane," Dagonet hugged her. "You still grew up to be a fine warrior. In both lifetimes."

"And now I have a big brother," Vi shook her head.

"As long as it doesn't infringe on my smootchies, you can have him as a brother," Dawn squeezed her hand.

"Do you think everyone else has gone to the clearing?" Garrett frowned as they stepped out the kitchen door.

"I spotted three post-it notes in the kitchen, so I'm guessing that they have."

"Who put out the post-it notes?" Vi cried.

* * *

"That would be us," Cordelia shook her head as she watched them all make their way to the hill.

"It's done," Tara breathed heavily beside them. She'd just returned from the Hollis home, where she was sending them over to the hill earlier then they had planned.

"We're pretty awesome. And what will be even more awesome? If they don't all mentally crash and burn when Morgana tells them what's up."

"Aw, don't ruin the mood, Cordy," Tara sighed.

A/N2: So, Alexis Denisoff played Gaheris in _First Knight_. I didn't know this when I wrote the first chapter of _Not Nearly All_, btw (in which past!Willow hooks up first with past!Wesley before getting close with Gawain, his brother). Also, I started writing this part and forgot who was all at the Cottage when they got there. This is what happens when years happen per chapter post. Sigh.


	21. Epilogue: You and Me Against the World

Title: Sarmatian Ladies  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's _The Firebrand._ It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.  
Summary: Morgana explains all.  
A/N: I would just like to say that a _two week_ chapter turn-over is tons better than a two year chapter turn over, but whatevs. This is the end of _Sarmatian Ladies_. Next on the agenda is to finish up _Not Nearly All_. Then I will start the final part of the trilogy: _Journey to This_. I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with me to the end of this installment of The Quest series. To those who've reviewed and poked and prodded and did fanart. I would never have continued this story to the end if I didn't know that at the end of the day, there were people who cared about this story and wanted Dawn and Dag back together and happy. Thank you for loving this story as much as I do.

_Epilogue: You and Me Against the World, That's What You Said_

*****  
_And from the union of the Dark Knight and the Host of the Key shall spring forth a child of great importance. This child will turn the hatred and fear of generations past to peace and rejoicing. - __**Prophecy of Camelot  
**_*****

*****  
_**London, 2005**_  
*****

"I'm afraid Miss Summers is unavailable to speak with you," Kit Holburn made a face at her computer screen.

"What do you mean my lady is _unavailable_?" the Immortal sneered through the telephone line.

Buffy was more of a whack job then Kit had previously thought if she found this control freak hot. She rolled a kohl-lined eye at the screen and wished that the internship was done so she could go poke at Dawn up north. Preggers Dawn who was attached at the hip to hot guys. And that bia couldn't even give her girl a call? Kit shook her head and tuned the ranting megalomaniac back in.

"I'm sorry sir, is English not your first language? Please hold while I transfer you to our Italian translator," Kit clicked the line over his angry sputtering. "Douchebag."

*****  
_**The Summers Cottage**_  
*****

"This is a little spooky, does anyone else think this is a little spooky?" Vi babbled, her eyes glued to Garrett's backside.

"It's a bit flabby from where I'm standing," Dagonet said quietly.

"You could bounce a quarter off -" Vi cut herself off and glanced up at the big knight. "Don't say things like that!"

"Already taking the role of brother to heart," Boris laughed loudly, drawing Garrett and Dawn's attention to them.

"Just move yer arse, Bors," Vi glared at him. "Double laps for you when we get back to training."

"You and what army?" Boris shook his head at her.

"Dawn's," Vi said quickly.

"Are you no longer spooked, little warrior?" Dag asked quietly.

"Of course I am! I'm just masking it better!" Vi huffed. "Magic post-it notes do not just appear out of nowhere!"

"Then they wouldn't be very magical, would they?" a deep voice had them pulling to an abrupt stop.

"Wesley?" Dawn blinked at him.

"Hello, Dawn."

"Who's the hottie with him?"

"Percy," Wesley smiled at Vi's comments, while Garret leveled a glare at her.

"Percival and Gaheris, brothers," Dagonet smiled at them.

"_Gaheris_?" Dawn frowned at Dag. "You mean Wes was one of the knights?"

"Wes _died_, Dawn."

"So did Dagonet, until Morgana had something to say about that," Wes' hand strayed to where his mortal wound had been, where his scar still rested.

"Morgana's got a lot of things to say, doesn't she?" Percy growled, glancing up the hill to where they could just make out the rest of the knights and ladies.

"Baggage there," Vi said quietly under her breath.

"Hmm," Dagonet nodded.

"This way," Wes nodded to the crest of the hill.

* * *

Morgana stood in the very center of the uneven circle of former warriors. Her long dark hair was unfurled and her hands rested at her side, palm up. The sun was clear and strong and her warriors had come home. She waited until Percy stood begrudgingly beside Trevor. Other than Wesley, he was the only male warrior without a female counterpart. Her poor warriors. She'd been looking out for them since the day she'd died with Mordred's boot to her spine. Now was not the time to think on that.

"Sarmatian warriors, you have been called to arms again," Morgana spoke quietly, but her power lent itself to make sure she was heard by all assembled.

"And who calls us?" Arthur stepped forward, much as he had all those years ago, and despite his warriors' wishes.

"The Oracle has, the Sorcerer has, and the Witch has," Morgana felt Kassandra and Merlin arriving at her back. The three had not had such a showing in more than a thousand years.

"My children," Kassandra smiled serenely at them all. "Mordred has risen, and you must all defend the world from his tyranny."

"Mordred?" Buffy frowned at her. "You mean -"

"I mean the one who has the _gall_ to call himself _The Immortal_," Kassandra said darkly.

"Angel and Spike were right not to trust him," Wesley murmured quietly.

"Wes?"

Faith, Willow and Buffy's heads all turned sharply, as if they hadn't noticed the former watcher before then. Of course, Morgana knew they hadn't. She hoped they forgave her that bit of manipulation later.

"He cannot be fought with mere strength this time, nor can he be fought with magic alone. He is too strong for that, he's been allowed to flourish too greatly," Morgana surged on. "The only thing that can stop him, is that which stopped him before."

"_Arthur_," Gwen's hand clenched onto his tightly.

"Yes. But he will need all his knights. And he will need his mystical warriors all gathered on one side this time around," Morgana glanced over at Kassandra. "Magic alone did not defeat him at Troy. Swords alone did not defeat him at Camelot. _We_ will destroy him this time. What say you?"

"Well, I'm tired of running," Boris said loudly, drawing the knights' gazes to him. Dawn smiled faintly at those words.

"Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Trevor clicked his tongue.

"Be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gavin laughed.

"And finally get a look at the bastard," Garrett's hand slipped through Vi's.

"Here, in this time," Dagonet placed a kiss on Dawn's head, his hand laying protectively over their child.

"May the Powers protect us all," Morgana sighed heavily.

"Isn't _she_ a Power?" Vi muttered.

* * *

"Do you get the feeling that we're missing out on something?" Willow frowned at Wesley.

"Just an old battle," Wesley said quietly, ignoring the look Gavin was leveling at him. "I didn't sleep with her in this lifetime, little brother."

"Huh?" Willow glanced between Gavin and Wesley. "I'm gay, why would I have slept with you?"

"You weren't when we met."

"And it's _Wes_," Willow shuddered.

"We've signed up for another war, B," Faith stepped up beside Wesley and Buffy, who'd come over to Willow's side after Morgana's little announcement.

"I have to kill my boyfriend. Again," Buffy sighed. "I can really pick 'em, can't I?"

"That's three, if you count Spike," Dawn called from Dag's arms.

"Two. Spike wasn't evil," Buffy frowned at her sister.

"But he 'had to die, so that others might live'," Dawn did air quotes.

"Who are you quoting?"

"I don't know."

"And will the children be safe?"

The question threw them all for a loop. Felicia had been the one to ask, her hands filled with a little girl, and her son Lucas pressed against her.

"Yes. They will be. None of Mordred's perverse magic will touch them. Not this time," Morgana smiled at the child, her fingers trailing over the infant's arm. "Kassandra will oversee their protection."

"And what mortal will guard them?"

"It's in the works," Morgana said quietly.

"So we need all of the knights? All twenty-some?" Dawn took a deep breath.

"Yes. But you no longer need to search them out, Dawn," Morgana smiled. "They'll find you."

*****  
_**London**_  
*****

"Hmm, that's weird," Kit frowned. "Okay, that's really weird."

She stared at the text in front of her for a long time. It didn't make any sense. Not one lick of it. Neither did the picture. A lady in blue, a man in armor and a small baby. But it wasn't just _any_ lady. It was a lady with blue tinged _skin_.

"The Sarmatian Lady?" Kit peered at it for a long time. "_Illyria_?"


End file.
